The Experimental WeaponMeister Exchange!
by BluejayWing
Summary: The DWMA has a new program to increase the strength of it's students: The Experiment Weapon/Meister Exchange Program! Follow our regular cast of characters as each is separated from his or her partner for a whole year, traveling across the globe the different branches of the DWMA to fight with friends they've only just met against enemies with a whole different set of rules!
1. Chapter One: Kai

Chapter One: Kai: A Visitor at the American DWMA

If there was one thing I detested more than anything, it was waking up before ten.

Second on the list was meeting new people. Both of which were being done, simultaneously, on a _Monday_, as if the day didn't already have a bunch of nasty stereotypes associated with it. To be honest, I really did pity Monday. I also pitied they guy that I was standing at the airport waiting to meet because he was _not _going to get the warmest welcome.

On top of that, it was cold.

I rubbed my arms to keep warm, glancing around at all the other bleary-eyed faces that surrounded me. It seemed my entire class had been duped into thinking this entire escapade would be fun. When teachers threw around words like _'exciting experience' _and _'unlock your strength further'_ one simply could not resist the temptation, it seemed. Hell, why else would we all be here at six in the freakin' morning to meet strangers?

Perhaps I should explain further.

My name is Kai Blair, and I'm a student at the Death Weapon Meister Academy: America (DWMAA for short). As of yesterday my usual meister, Warren Jackson, was being shipped off due to the implementing of a program our esteemed Lord Death has decided to impose on us budding weapons and meisters: The Meister/Weapon Exchange Program. It's designed so that weapons and meisters can get used to different styles of fighting, learn to control their own wavelength, etcetera, etcetera. Quite frankly, I just wanted Warren to get back so we could return to our nightly routine of McDonald's and kishin hunting.

"Flight 564 from Japan has now arrived!" A cheerful voice announced over the intercom. I glared at the ceiling as if it was the reason there was so much noise so early in the morning. Really, I just wanted to collect the dude and get back to my apartment. Not only was I exhausted, by I hadn't had any caffeine of any sort and my patience was wearing thinner by the second,

It was then that I felt it: like a rumbling before a stampede. The calm before the storm. The smoke before the flame. Some primal instinct was shouting at me, telling me to flee for my life before whatever it was got to be, but there was no helping it. As I stood there at the gate, waiting for my borrowed meister to arrive, the doors opened to reveal a very rambunctious, very loud blue-haired boy who promptly burst out of the tunnel and struck what seemed to be an attempt at a valiant pose.

"All hail the might Black*Star!" He shouted cheerfully with a fist-pump. "Don't worry everyone," he smirked, casting his gaze around the crowded airport as if he was the center of everyone's attention – which he wasn't. "A big star like me might just blow your brains out your ears, but I'll go easy on you for now. Make sure you all stay on my good side so you don't have to see my bad side!"

This was my moment, but first I checked the slip of paper that had my new meister's information on it, just in case some small act of mercy had been given and this loud, annoying twat wasn't really the one I was looking for. A trickle of sweat dripped onto my cheek as I looked back up at him, randomly doing a set of push-ups right where he'd been standing, a crowd of people disembarking the plane behind him.

"I hate my life." I groaned, dragging my feet over to the boy and standing over him. Now he had resorted to doing one-handed push-ups on one pinky finger, and was loudly shouting the number of reps he was doing. "Are you Black*Star?"

Blue-Hair paused halfway down and twisted his head up to look at me with big grin on his face, turquoise eyes sparkling. "Yeah, that's me. I should've guessed my name would've spread this far, I am gonna' surpass god, you know."

I gave him a flat look, offering a hand that was ignored as he pushed himself to his feet. It didn't escape my attention that he was actually rather attractive, though his boyish demeanor leaked into his features and made him appear much younger than thirteen. Silently I appraised the boy who would be my meister for the next year: he was wearing a black tank with a cowl that did nothing to hide his idiotic facial expressions, and pants that were several inches past his knees and looked more like parachutes. All he had with him was a duffel bag, so I figured he'd have another bag down at baggage claim that we have to go get. When I asked, though…

"No, this is it!" Black*Star's chest puffed out with pride as if a singular bag for a whole year was an accomplishment – which I supposed it was, but to be proud of it? "Tsubaki always tells me that when we're going on trips we should pack light. Plus, gods don't need a lot of stuff to be amazing!"

His surplus of self-confidence was already giving me a headache.

"Alright, then. There's a car out front waiting for us," I said, turning on my heel without looking behind to make sure he didn't get lost. If only I should be so lucky.

"Hey! I didn't get your name!" He said – or should I say, _shouted,_ because this boy seemed to only have one volume: loud.

"Kai." I answered simply, "Kai Blair. I'll be your weapon for the next year. Super excited and all that shit."

My lack of enthusiasm seemed to shut him up, at least temporarily. It bought me enough time to navigate our way to the where the car was waiting outside and usher him inside quickly. I slammed the door shut behind me, sliding in beside him and giving the driver a quick nod when our seatbelts were buckled. Even after knowing him for so short a time, I had expected Black*Star to say something like "A god like me doesn't need a seatbelt!" but he put it on without a word.

Leaning my head against the headrest, I relaxed my muscles one by one and busied myself with reviewing what little I knew of Japanese culture. Quintessa Nethers, the meister who acted as our head principal, had made it a requirement to get to know the culture that our temporary partners came from, as well as their personal information. Right now I knew a slightly creepy amount about the blue-haired boy next to me. If it were any other circumstance, I would have labeled myself stalker material.

"So," I intoned, lazily opening my eyes and glancing at him, "You're Black*Star, son of White*Star. Original partner Tsubaki, you're training to be some sort of ninja assassin, right?"  
"Right! And-"

I quickly cut him off, "And you're gonna' surpass god. You've mentioned."

His eyes twinkled and he gave me another smirk before nodding curtly. Another sigh worked its way out of my chest: this boy and I were going to have a long year if he was a budding assassin. Last I had checked, assassins didn't exactly just carrying around claymores or longbows, and my blade would be a lot different than swinging around some katana. Most meisters would have at least seemed a little nervous at this point, perhaps a little apprehensive about living with someone they'd only just met, but when we pulled up to my apartment complex (conveniently located a mere six blocks from the DWMAA) he faced it with the same cocky grin he'd given every other obstacle. I wondered if there was any time this guy wasn't happy.

"Nice place, you've obviously got more cash than I do back home. Tsubaki and I might as well live in a trailer, for all our house is worth!" He tilted his head back and laughed as if he'd just made the funniest joke in the world.

Ignoring him – again – I pulled my keys out of my pocket and swiped climbed up the steps to my door. The air was stale seeing as I hadn't been there in a few days. Before Warren had gone off to have his own adventure, he and I had taken one last mission together. Ice cream and french fries for dinner four nights in a row, tracked down the a kishin that went by Sasquatch. We'd only just gotten back last night before he had to jet off to the airport.

"Woah," Black*Star grinned, glancing around the living room as he shut the door and took his shoes off. "Someone really likes to take pictures!"

All around, on the walls and shelves and any other place I could find I had placed photos. Many were random photos: the sun shining through the trees, a telephone pole. The majority were photographs of Warren and I. My favorite… I brushed my fingertips over the only picture on the fireplace mantel. It had been the day Warren and I first met, in detention. It'd been his first time and I had brought a harmonica. The teacher was tied to his chair and I sat on the desk, my blue and green tartan shorts riding up to almost booty-short length as I lost myself in the music. You could see a slack-jawed Warren in the mirror, holding a camera near his face, but gaping at me. It was by far the most amateurish photo in the room, but it meant the most to me. It reminded me of why I chose him, of all people.

Our instant friendship. Our bond.

"I used to want to be a photographer," I answered finally, "And my meister is really good with posing on demand. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all!"

"Good. Now it's time for me to show you your room."

I led the ninja down the hall. At the end, I pointed out, was the bathroom. On the left side was my room, the door shut for privacy and 'KEEP OUT' signs plastered all over it in every shape and size. On the right side, I opened the door to reveal a room that, seeing it empty, brought an ache to my heart. All of Warren's stuff was either in storage or with him so we could make room for the meister. "Here we are, all for you."

Black*Star trotted in and turned slowly in a circle, studying the room with a critical eye. When the large idiotic grin returned I figured now was my chance to lay down the rules before he got too excited.

"No pets, no parties, no girlfriends, got it?" I demanded. Black*Star barely glanced at me, throwing himself on the bed and laughing when he bounced a bit on the mattress. "And no walking around the house naked or in your underwear, either. I don't house nudists."

"Understood, Kai!" A big thumbs-up was sent my direction, accompanied by another hearty laugh.

I held back a groan of frustration, alerted him that dinner would be ready within the hour, and promptly made my exit. A stray thread from the carpet made my foot itch. I hoped he wasn't expecting anything too fancy for dinner, because I was nearly one-hundred percent sure that I had forgotten to go shopping this weekend. As I hit the tile I surveyed the kitchen dismally. In addition to having forgotten to go shopping – I had checked the fridge – the dishes also needed done. Two of my least favorite chores.

Warren usually handled the kitchen stuff seeing as I was absolutely hopeless when it came to such things, but I didn't know whether or not this guy had any idea what to do in the kitchen. Not to mention I knew Warren would prefer that his previous dinnerware was intact when he got home.

I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves. The sound of running water very nearly made me cringe as I stepped forward and attacked the pile. It gave me time to think as I soaped up the dirty dishes and scraped against them with a sponge. Warren had spent so much time trying to get me into the kitchen to help out I felt a little silly – coming in of my own volition while he wasn't here.

"Who's Warren?"

I jumped, startled, and very nearly dropped the plate in my hand before carefully setting it down on the counter. "Warren is my meister," I stated calmly as I turned to face my _new _meister. Black*Star frowned and pointed towards the dishes.

"Do you want help?"

Glancing down at the considerable pile still left for me, I was tempted by his offer, but shook my head. Black*Star seemed like the kind of guy who would much more likely drop a plate than clean it. Instead I finished up quickly, practically obliterating all dirt from the dishes with my anger. A pounding at the door was the only thing that caused me to pause, and Black*Star had gotten up and pointed towards it in question.

"You can answer it, if you like!"

He went off and I put the last dish in the drying rack. Toweling of my hands, I began looking through the cupboards to see if there was anything I could turn into any sort of meal.

"Ramen it is then," I sighed, taking out two packs. Then I hunted for some eggs to liven it up a bit. As I pondered the eggs in there, wondering how long they'd resided within the depths of our sometimes questionable refrigerator, a crash came from the living room. I froze and turned slowly towards the noise, quietly praying until I heard a series of shouts.

"Rose! Morris! What are you doing here?" I dashed into the living room, only to find one of my two friends with Black*Star pinned to the ground.

Rose, my somewhat chubby meister comrade, had Black*Star pinned to the ground and was sitting on him proudly like she'd won some sort of prize. Morris, her scythe, blinked warily at me as I entered the room. I was known for losing my temper at idiotic times, it was true but for the sake of my new meister I took a deep breath and let my anger go. Also, I didn't want to break the coffee table again.

"What do you two think you're doing here?" I gestured towards the drab apartment, furnished with an old black couch, two mismatched chairs, and an ancient T.V. "And why is it always my apartment that gathers people? Your mansion is way nicer!"

"Don't expect me to know the answer," Morris shrugged, tossing himself into one of our chairs, "I just followed Rose. Something about your new meister getting here today? Is this him? Doesn't seem like much!"

"Just you wait!" Black*Star said weakly from under Rose's butt, "I'm gonna' surpass god!"

The rest of the room stared at him for a moment.

"I told you to call as soon as he got here!" Rose whined after a moment, "I need to know how attractive he is! What if he's a threat to Warren?" She whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards me with wide eyes.

Warren and I's relationship was under much debate within our circle of friends. Rose 'shipped' us. Morris tended to stay out of it. The three others, one was away on his own exchange mission, his two weapons-

"Kai!" the door slammed open, effectively immobilizing Morris behind it as he let out a loud yelp.

Two twin boys stood in the opening, a girl I had never met before standing a little ways behind them. They were both tall, shaggy blond hair and blue eyes making it impossible to tell the two apart. Both were Canadian weapons, but seeing as the DWMAA was the closest academy other than the South American branch, they came here instead, similar to me.

"Ian, Zack, you've squished Morris behind the door…" I trailed off wearily, attempting to peer behind the two to see if my dark-haired friend was still alive behind the slab of wood. A hand peaked out and waved around so I figured he must at least be alive.

"Is this our new friend?" Ian cheered enthusiastically as he pushed Rose away and clutched Black*Star to his chest in a rather gay manner which, to be honest, Ian was. Zach slapped a hand to his forehead, embarrassed by his brother's forward behavior, and instead walked over to me and patted me on the head in a comforting manner.

"He's so cute!" Ian giggled, poking at Black*Star's cheeks.

Rose gasped and fawned over my new meister with the boy, both acting presently like young children with a pretty new friend.

"There's no containing them now." Morris groaned ominously.

"They've gone to the dark side." Zach hung his head in defeat.

"You're both goobers!" I snorted, inserting my hand into the fray and pulling Black*Star out by his bicep. I couldn't help but notice he _was _rather defined, but fortunately not in an overly zealous way. He seemed like the kind of guy who worked out a lot, but not to the extent that he wanted muscles larger than his head.

"I was planning on exposing you to them separately, Rose and Ian can be a deadly force when combined."

Black*Star snapped to attention, at once the life coming back to his eyes. "It's alright! It's only natural they'd be excited to meet such a big star like me!"

This was going to be an interesting year.


	2. Chapter 2: Team Maka

(Author's Note: This is more of a filler chapter, just to set a base as to where all our favorite Team Maka ducklings are. Some of the poor dears... being the author of this story makes me feel prematurely bad for them... Anyways! On with the show...)

Chapter Two: Team Maka: Facing the Fanatics

Maka Alburn: half weapon, mostly meister, all badass. Before this moment, however, it had never occurred to her just how many people knew about her. Obviously all her friends: Soul, Tsubaki, Black*Star, Kid and the Thompson sisters. Her papa, the good-for-nothing, and Lord Death. Everyone at the Death City DWMA knew about her, knew that she'd defeated the kishin Asura 'all by herself' – though she knew in her heart that she never could have done it without her friends. She had never considered that perhaps more people, _outside of who she knew, _might actually know what she'd done.

When she got off the plane, she got her first taste of fame.

Her trademark coat seemed cumbersome as it was tugged at. She was shouting, attempting to get through to at least begin assessing the situation, but getting through the crowd almost felt more difficult than fighting Crona, though the poor guy was a lot less grabby with his hands – and a hell of a lot more careful where his hands made _contact_. People she didn't even know, most of them her age, were attempting to get as close to her as possible in a large, mad flash-mob scenario that Maka found herself instantly suffocating in. This was when she decided that she did not like fame, not one bit.

"Hey, back off!"

The crowd suddenly parted, Maka found her feet being set back on the ground as she breathed a sigh of relief. Foolishly, she expected to see Soul standing there when she looked back up from adjusting her clothing, but experienced a brief pang of disappointment when she realized that she wouldn't be seeing Soul for a whole year. _A whole year._ Maka was a fan of getting stronger, but it didn't seem fair that she had to do it _without _Soul or vice versa.

A boy approached, loping towards her with long legs in a lazy swagger that instantly made her irritation rise. His face was one that demanded worship, and by the look of the females in the crowd it usually received what it wanted. He was attractive, she supposed, but one glimpse at his soul found him more than lacking.

But he was a weapon. _Her weapon?_

"Rosario," he stuck out his hand, a slight Spanish accent hanging on the tip of his tongue, "I'll be your weapon for the next year. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Alburn."

Taking her hand, he kissed in while keeping eye contact with her in what she supposed was supposed to be a sultry look. A frown plastered onto her face, she took her hand back and attempted to put her best foot forward. It wasn't this guy's fault he was a schmuck, right? Being a schmuck could be a hereditary trait.

"It's nice to meet you." _Not. You remind me of my papa. _

"If you'll follow me, we'll go get your bag. There's a car waiting outside to take us to the DWMAE."

Maka nodded curtly and followed him to baggage claim. She quickly spotted her bag, a pink and flowery thing that Papa had bought for her – the only luggage she owned, and fondly remembered how much teasing Soul had given her for that bag. Soul would be on his way to his own temporary home: Russia, if she remembered correctly. Smirking, she pulled her bag off the conveyor belt and thought wryly to herself: _Things are going to get a lot cooler, Soul. _

"Is that it?" Rosario asked politely. Another glanced behind her showed he was standing in a very polite manner, but she didn't like the way he held himself. Like a predator playing with its prey.

If there was one thing Maka Alburn would not be, it was someone else's prey.

"This is it."

* * *

Thousands of miles away from the rainy weather of Europe, Maka Alburn's very own weapon, best friend, and – let's face it – possible crush was waking up on his own plane. Soul Evans wasn't really a quiet guy by nature, but he wasn't a _nice_ guy either, and without his meister to keep him in check he was decidedly grumpy. Already he was missing the blond girl a lot more than he'd originally thought he would.

"This is not cool, Soul." He growled to himself while he unbuckled his seat belt and swung his carry-on bag onto his back, "It's only been a few hours, not even a day! It's not like I'll never see her again."

A second later, when he stepped off of the plane and into the tunnel that connected the flying vessel to the airport, he found that despite what he'd just been doing, he was actually very cool. Or, perhaps, cold was a better word. He sped up, chanting "fuck" under his breath like a mantra. It didn't warm him up but it did make him feel considerably better. He was regretting ignoring Maka's last advice to him – though he didn't often listen anyways – to wear something warmer than his usual outfit.

When the warm air from the airport hit him he sighed in relief, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to take a moment to himself before glancing around through slitted eyes. The waiting area was empty – completely devoid of any person that may or may not have been his new meister. He awkwardly stood there, wondering what exactly a scythe was supposed to do all alone in Russia. People were giving him odd looks due to his albino coloring, though most of them were as pale as he was. He just wanted to go home.

A glance back proved that getting back onto the plane and begging them to take him to Maka was not an option – the doors had already closed. Now he was losing his cool, something that he didn't do often, and he could feel a singular drop of sweat dripped down his neck. He began walking towards baggage claim, the only thing he had thought of that would be productive in getting him where he needed to be. After he got his baggage – if he still hadn't by some act of mercy found his meister in this freezing hellhole – he would hail a cab and see if he could find his own way to the DWMAR.

If this had been Maka coming to pick him up, _she would be here. _If it had been Maka, _she'd be taking him home._ If it was Maka… he shook his head violently, taking his bag and trudging towards the door to the cab stand.

"God, this is going to be the longest year of my life…" he groaned.

* * *

Tsubaki fanned herself with her hand, her mind already off of the horrendous plane ride and onto Black*Star. Was he eating enough? Did he like his new weapon? _Had he packed enough clean underwear? _She knew that she could take care of herself, but her meister was surprisingly forgetful when it came to anything other than working out or getting stronger. It was the only reason she had agreed to do this exchange program and now all it was causing her was worry – and not only for Black*Star. The meister that was going to be wielding her hadn't even bothered to come pick her up at the airport. Glancing at the driver sitting next to her, emotionless navigating their way through the African desert, she wondered what kind of person he – or she – would be.

Would he be as loud and confident as Black*Star? Or would he be determined and assertive like Maka?

They finally pulled up to a series of African mud huts. A lot of dark-skinned people stood, staring at the car as it drove up. None of them looked like they were very pleased with her arrival; except for one boy who walked forwards as she opened the door. Unlike the others, this boy's hair was pure white and made his skin seem even darker than the rest's. Silently he reached into the trunk and pulled out her bag, throwing an arm around her shoulder and guiding her through the maze of huts and stern glares.

Already Tsubaki was sweating, and the quick movement made her huff with exertion. She was confused and tempted to just run to the car and ask the man to take her back to the airport so she could fly to Black*Star. What if he was facing the same sort of outsider treatment she was? He never acted appropriately to confrontation, so it was likely he had already been in numerous fights without her.

Tsubaki was so busy worrying about her blue-haired friend she barely noticed that she'd been pulled inside one of the huts until the cool air hit her skin.

"I am very sorry about your reception," A voice said in the darkness. She could only assume it was the boy who had led her here. "We are often wary of outsiders, but soon you shall see that we are quite loyal when we accept you as our own."

A sound like the clicking of a lamp reached her ears and suddenly the small room was bathed in light. It revealed that the hut was surprisingly well furnished: two cots, a desk set up with a chair on either side so two people could comfortably share a workspace. There was a slab of wood inserted in the floor towards the rear that looked suspiciously like a trapdoor, but Tsubaki stayed silent. The boy let her survey her surroundings, turning slightly to look around. She was shocked that, in comparing it with her old home, it was almost better than where she had lived. There were less holes in the roof. The beds looked comfier and less used – and not stained at all! Not to mention it was much cooler than the outside temperature (though that wasn't different but Black*Star and her apartment was cold to a fault).

"I apologize. I could not get you your own abode because homes at the academy are very sparse," He apologized, bowing slightly as he did so. Tsubaki blushed, a tad flustered at his polite manners. "I promise I shall not make unwanted advances."

She nodded, slightly shocked. "Thank you, for your hospitality." Bowing herself, she gave her name. "I'm Tsubaki, it's nice to meet you."

"Snow," he smiled, revealing teeth as white as his hair, "I am pleased to have met you, Tsubaki. I apologize that I was not able to meet you at the airport. I had a previous engagement that I was unable to detach myself from."

Tsubaki smiled and shook her head, "It was fine. Though I wasn't expecting it to be so hot, I'm sure I'll adjust."

Snow smiled back, nodding. "We, as a species, are marvelous at adapting to different situations.

_Very true_, Tsubaki thought, already knowing she was going to like being Snow's weapon. _Very true…_

* * *

Death the Kid paced around his bedroom. He took precisely eight steps one way, then precisely eight steps back the way he'd come. The toilet paper had been folded to an exact triangle. His bed had been made so that the blanket hung exactly eight inches about the ground. The kitchen was perfectly immaculate, each speck of dust on every surface obliterated, and it was _silent_. Silence was not something Kid often experienced, yet somehow the silence just made him even more anxious. His symmetry-centered OCD was buzzing in his ear like an annoying insect, but there was nothing to do.

_Liz and Patty._

Liz and Patty were the center of his anxiety. He had tried over and over to explain to his father that there was no need for his twin pistols to go on exchange like the rest of his friends, but Lord Death hadn't listened. "A good shinigami gets used to many different weapons, Kid!" his father had giggled, "Liz and Patty deserve a little break."

"A little break?" he muttered to himself, simmering quietly. "A little break from what, exactly? I've given them a perfectly good home." He stomped his foot to punctuate his point. One of his pictures tilted imperceptibly out of the corner of his eye.

Kid froze, clenching and unclenching his fist in fury as he stared at that corner. The room wasn't symmetrical anymore and his new weapons would be here any moment! The room was unpresentable! He couldn't allow someone to come in at a time like this, it would make the wrong first impression! He made a small groaning noise in the back of his throat and lept towards the painting, carefully measuring it. It wasn't perfect! It wasn't perfect!

_Hands shaking! Lungs constricting! Nose gushing! Lights… growing dim!_

"Kid! I've brought your- oh!"

"Father!" Kid moaned, his face pressed into the floor. "The painting… it's not symmetrical!"

There was silence from the room, but Kid couldn't stop obsessing about that _stupid painting_. Suddenly, two pairs of hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. Kid saw the painting again and more blood dripped through his nose. _No, no, no, no!_

"Are you our new meister?" a voice rumbled.

Death the Kid had never been scared of _death_, considering he was a shinigami-in-training he'd never had to; it was a particularly difficult endeavor to simply subdue him. However, in that moment as he stared upwards, he prayed to his father for a merciful parting from this world.

"Nikolai," one of the giants pointed to himself and spoke in a deep baritone, "This is my brother Bastian. Ve are to be your veapons v'or the next year."

Kid blinked up at the in shock. He had never been short, exactly. Black*Star and Soul had been around the same height as he. These two, however, had probably been fed baby bottles full of steroids or something, because even his _father _had to tilt his head back to look at them – and that was saying something. Gulping, Kid forgot all about the painting for a moment while he went through a list of nearby funeral parlors and mentally planned his funeral.

"How tall _are _you?"

"Eight feet, eight inches," the boy called Bastian answered, "Our mother v'as Russain, our father v'as German. Both very large families."

"In many vays!" Nikolai nudged Kid, nearly sending him through the wall, and made vulgar motion suggesting female anatomy.

Kid wasn't sure whether to be appalled… or eager to see what the year would bring.

But that didn't mean he forgot the painting.

"Noooo!"


	3. Chapter 2-Point-5: Liz and Patty Soul

(Author's Note: Hey ducklings! Some of you may have noticed that Patty and Liz weren't in the last chapter! Well, I kind of idolize them, soo I decided they needed an extra long chapter! But then I realized poor Soul was left in Russia by himself and that didn't seem right, so here's the second part of Chapter Two! Oh, and one more thing: these are all UN-EDITED so if you see any mistakes, feel like a character's OOC, don't be afraid to message me!)

Chapter Two-Point-Five: Liz and Patty's Misadventures Down-Under; Soul's Frozen Wonderland

"Patty! Get off the security guard!"

This was what Liz had been shouting for the last five minutes as the two Thompson sisters had been neatly escorted from the plane. It was amazing how quickly the Australian police force mobilized when they thought somebody had a gun – little did they know that Liz and Patty were guns _themselves. _After a rather thorough search by unattractive guards Liz and Patty were sent on their way with an ecstatic kick to the ass on their way out the door. Literally.

"Dammit, Patty!" Liz groaned sharply as her sister landed on top of her, "Get the frick off of _me_!"

Patty, ever the child, didn't seem to notice her sister's discomfort, and instead bounced up and down giggling and calling her squishy.

Poor Liz stood up, knocking her sister off of her and spitting out a mouthful of gravel. They still had to sneak inside and get their baggage, not to mention find their new meisters, and she wasn't looking forward to either. Meeting new people always had an added sense of importance that was foolish yet, to her at least, rather nerve-wracking. Patty, on the other hand, was looking forward to meeting the two brothers that had been chosen to weild them for a year. She was also excited to see giraffes in their natural habitat, even though Liz had explained countless times that _giraffes _lived in _Africa_. Not for the first time, she wondered if her sister's head was a little special.

"Liz! It's too hot to be moving!" Patty whined, glaring up at the sun with a murderous look, then blinking in pain when the light got to be too much for her eyes. "Why couldn't we have just stayed with Kid? It wasn't so hot! And he fed us!"

"I'm sure these guys will feed us, Patty," said Liz dryly, rolling her eyes.

Patty sat down in the dirt and huffed a sigh. The younger Thompson was angry. Angry that she'd been told to leave Japan, angry that she'd had to leave Kiddo all alone with two unknown weapons! Anything could happen to her meister. What if they didn't know how to handled his OCD and, like, beat him or something? Only Patty could beat up Kid! It was the rules!

So, while Liz snuck back inside to get their baggage, Patty stayed glued to the ground, pouting. It was no secret that, of the two sisters, Patty was always a little more attached to Kid. She viewed him as a sort of… how did she view him? She considered this for a moment, trying to work her mind around her own feelings, but eventually gave up and returned her mind to giraffes. Giraffes were easy.

"I wanna' go see a damn giraffe," she growled, getting to her feet and brushing off her white shorts. Her head was getting sweaty under her hat so she, in a moment of reckless abandon, took it off and chucked it as hard as she could. Because the hat was cloth, and cloth never flies very far, the hat landed only a few feet away in the road, but Patty felt immediately guilty. Kid had _given _her and Liz those hats! Patty moved towards the edge of the sidewalk, her eyes only on her hat, her foot slowly sliding off of the pavement and onto the blacktop so she could rescue her ever-so-important hat.

Liz stumbled out of the airport with their bags, flipping the bird to the securities guards that had, _once again_, tossed her out. "Watch your hands, you pervert!" She shouted, glaring fiercely. "My boobs aren't muffins! Which, by the way, you should probably lay off of." The fatter guard, the one that still had muffin crumbs stuck in his mustache, suddenly stopped staring at her chest region and for the first time looked up at her face. His piggy eyes were set into the folds of his face, barely visible behind an impressive pair of busy eyebrows, but she could still see how pissed he was as he began to walk towards her.

"Did I say they aren't muffins?" Liz backtracked frantically, "I meant I was _pretty sure _they weren't muffins. They're just boobs, you know. I thought I saw some kids sticking gum under the water fountain! Arrest them instead!"

"Wow, Rex, looks like these two ladies are having a bit of trouble!"

"You're right, Hollin, we should help out."

Simultaneously, a man inserted himself between Liz and the perverted piggy security guard, and another pulled Patty back just as a car almost squished the younger Thompson sister. All Liz could think was _Thank God _as she watched the fat-ass begin blubbering excuses and retreat back inside to the safety of his airport, where he had jurisdiction. Little Patty, however, began beating at her savior. None of the other three: not Liz, not either of the two boys who had come to their rescue, had seen her hat get run over. None of them, not even Liz, did anything until she got a good punch in on her guy's nose and dashed into the street, scooping up her hat and cradling it to her chest.

"Liz!" She looked up at her older sister, tears just beginning to well in her eyes, "My hat got run over!"

Understanding the importance of the hat, Liz walked over and comforted her younger sister. Sure, Patty was getting snot all over her in front of two really cute Australian guys, but it was as if she wasn't going to be living in Australia for the next year. There would be plenty of other hot Australian guys to occupy her time!

"Patty, I'm sure Kid will get you a new hat!" She reassured, patting her on the back, "I mean, he might have to get us both one so that he's sure they're symmetrical and all that, but we always cause Kid a bit of trouble so it won't be anything unusual!"

But Patty went on bawling and the two attractive objects of Australian manliness stood there and observed as their minds began connecting dots between what they were at the airport to do and the two girls in front of them. One grinned at the other, nodding towards them. The other responded by pulling out a slip of paper from his pocket and reading over it aloud: "Liz and Patty Thompson?"

The two girls immediately froze, having found that good things did not often happen after somebody used their full names. Liz turned, a protective arm still around her sister, but it was Patty that looked the most frightening. At the first sign of danger her tears had dried up and now she was staring intensely at the two boys, ready to pounce.

Sheepishly, one of the guys rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry we're late, we got held up at the docks. I'm Hollin, Liz's new meister?" He pointed warily and Liz and she nodded, dumbstruck. This was definitely quite a change from Kid!

The other boy, obviously younger and quite a bit shorter than his brother – but still taller than Patty – smiled warmly, if not a bit insanely, "I'm Rex, I'll be Patty's meister."

There was silence as the two sisters considered the two brothers, before Patty suddenly broke the silence: "Do you like giraffes?"

"Giraffes?" Liz and Hollin asked in unison, though Liz said it with quite a bit more exasperation that the boy. Then, realizing what they had done, they both grinned at each other. This was when Liz accepted that, yes, she was going to like Australia very much despite the fact that she missed Kid a lot more than she was willing to let on. Who wouldn't like Australia when they had two guys like _this _to show them around?

"Giraffes…" Rex bit his lip, considering. "They're very tall, they have spots-"

"And really long tongues, too!" Patty interjected, waiting on his verdict.

At first, he paused, thinking a little more. He stroked his bare chin in a thoughtful gesture, jutting out his lip as he thought about the question rather seriously. Finally, Rex snickered, "Yeah, I guess I do like giraffes."

Patty turned to her sister very seriously and nodded in approval.

It was official: Liz and Patty Thompson had officially arrived.

* * *

Once again we visit Soul Evans as he treks through his new Russian home, now awkwardly sitting in a taxi with a driver than didn't speak any English. Running a frustrated hand through his white hair, he could feel himself reaching his boiling point as the man chattered on about things Soul couldn't even _begin _to suppose were anywhere _near _the albino's idea of cool. He just wanted this day to be over. Hell, he wanted this whole frickin' year to be over so he could get back to hunting kishin with Maka.

"I potom, moya zhena govorit, u nas net nikakoy ryby!" The driver snorted loudly, the car swerving nearer to the edge of the road – the edge of a fifty foot drop. Soul clung tightly to the opposite door and begrudgingly closed his eyes and waited for Lord Death to come take his soul.

If his meister had just shown up like they were supposed to, Soul was sure that this day would have gone very differently. Maybe the guy would have proven himself to be a lot cooler, he didn't know. All Soul knew _now_ about his meister is that he was a lazy-ass S.O.B. who couldn't be bothered to pick people up from the airport. Not exactly a cool first impression.

"DWMAR!" The driver announced, pulling up to a dreary building surrounded by barbed wire, "Have happy time!"

"This looks more like a prison," Soul narrowed his eyes, staring at the sign on the front gate. Maka could have read it if she were here, but Soul's Russian was practically nonexistent.

The cab driver unloaded Soul's luggage from the trunk and tossed in roughly in the snow, grabbing Soul by his shoulder pushing him after it. The weapon was soaked to the bone as the cab driver quickly hopped in his cab and, with a brief wave, sped off while showering the boy sitting in the snow with yet more snow, thoroughly burying him in a mountain of the powdery stuff. Angrily he tried to unearth himself and, in succeeding, a trickle of snow felt down his collar.

"Frick!" Soul jumped to his feet, arching his back and tugging on the back of his sweatshirt to get the frigid stuff out of his shirt.

"Soul Evans?"

Twisting, the boy locked eyes with a man dressed as a security guard. His heart pounded in his chest, violently knocking against his ribcage. He may be a bit of a troublemaker, but he'd never been to _jail._ Soul narrowed his eyes and took a step back, ready to show this guy just who he was dealing with.

Smirking, Soul nodded. "That's me."

An unnerving smile settled on the guard's face as he swung the gate open and gestured for Soul to grab his bags and enter. After years of 'stranger danger' from his parents, he ignored his inner voice telling him _this was a terrible idea_, and picked up his suitcase.

"We've been waiting for you to get here," The man explained in a thick Russian accent as the made it inside the concrete building. "It's not often that we have a visitor. Most do not wish to come near because of our exterior, but I assure you that this is far from a prison."

Though he still wasn't sure, he acted as if he believed him. The main thing, Soul knew, was making sure his first impression was as cool as possible. It was a little difficult, pretending he wasn't getting nervous as he was led deeper inside the all-concrete building. Not to mention he was freezing: his clothes were still dripping with melted snow and his nose was running, which was definitely not cool. That moment the only thing he wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep… and eat. But the cooking probably wouldn't be half as good as Maka's.

Dammit. Stop thinking about Maka.

"You and your meister will be sharing a room," the man explained, "and he'll be able to show you around the campus when you're ready. Right here!" They stopped in front of a metal door that looked like it once hid a unit for solitary confinement.

"Alright," Soul stared at the door, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out how to open it. He was saved the embarrassment by the guard, who quickly opened the door and ushered him inside.

Soul's eyes widened, her expression turning into one of horror as he stared at the room's decorations. "Hey! I thought you said my meister was a _guy_!" He shouted, twisting just in time to see the door shut – and hear the lock click into place.

"I am a guy!"

Slowly, Soul turned. What had appeared to be a pile of stuffed animals suddenly opened as a short, childish boy stood, his eyes roving the albino. "My name's Nanuk, I'll be your new meister. And let me just say, you're delish!" Nanuk, his head barely reaching Soul's shoulder, ran over and nearly knocked him over in a hug. "We're going to have such a great year together! I can't wait to have adventures and hunt kishin and check out _guys!"_

"What the-" Soul started, shoving the small boy off, "I'm not gay!"

"But your file said you were!" Little Nanuk looked offended.

This was when Soul realized that, several months ago when Maka had made him go through the Exchange Program papers, he'd handed them to Black*Star; mistake two of this entire thing. _Completely uncool, _he steamed. Next time he talked to the blue-haired ninja he would definitely be saying something.

"I'm not, it was my friend being stupid." He sighed, running a hand through his white hair and nearly knocking his headband askew, "I didn't mean to cause you any confusion, but I have a very nice meister back home who I…" Soul trailed off, for the first time not sure how to finish his sentence.

"Oh, I understand _completely_!" Nanuk squealed, smiling sweetly. "No hard feelings. And," he glanced around the room, completely decorated to the young boy lolita's tastes: pink, pink, and – you guessed it – more pink. "Apologies for the décor, I didn't think you would mind," sheepishly rubbing his neck, he glanced at Soul. However, Soul was surprisingly cool with his new meister being the type of guy he was.

"The pink will have to go." Soul said finally but, as he did so, he threw his arm around the sorter boy in a sort of acceptance, "But it doesn't seem too bad."

_I really wish you were here Maka. _


	4. Chapter 3: Kai

(Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Alright, in this chapter we're coming back to Kai - Black*Star's new weapon - because she's pretty much going to be my main character even though I'm going to add some different perspectives here and there so we know what's going on with Team Maka - they're still super important! Moving on, hope you all had a great Turkey Day, and enjoy Chapter Three!)

Chapter Three: Kai: Learning (and Breaking) Things

Later that afternoon, when my friends had departed, Ian and Zach nearly forgetting their silent borrowed meister, I settled into the couch for some relaxing. It was then, after I had closed my eyes, that my stomach growled and reminded me that breakfast had been abandoned in slew of friends. Staring at the ceiling, I almost called out for Warren, but then realized he wasn't exactly here to make me food. I wriggled and, succumbing to my whims, pulled out my phone and called Dominos and ordered a large pepperoni pizza.

"Black*Star!" I shouted once I had gotten off the phone, too lazy to go and find the blue-haired ninja myself, "Pizza should be here in half an hour!"

"Alright!" Black*Star bounded into the room, planting his feet and fist-pumping. "Now: where's your mirrors?"

"Want a handheld or full-length?" Standing, I went to the closet where we kept all our mirrors. Black*Star gaped at the amount we had. Most DWMAA students valued mirrors more than anything, so we had more than was probably necessary on-hand. Black*Star seemed to consider for a few moments before taking a large mirror and propping it up on the fireplace.

I watched in mild boredom as he took a deep breath and fogged up the glass, writing some numbers there. They weren't the typical '42-42-564' of a call to Lord Death, but the numbers of a personal call. Several, in fact.

Four faces popped up on different sections of the mirror, all looking pleased to see him. Blushing, I realized I knew all of them: they were all of the famed Team Maka from Japan.

This was when embarrassment hit me like a ton of bricks: Black*Star, Tsubaki… Oh gosh. My face turned as red as my hair as I slowly sunk to the floor. So stupid! Then again, how many people were there with the name Black*Star? Face getting redder and redder by the second, I was nearly spontaneously combusting as I sat there. Drowning in my own embarrassment, nearly choking on it, I watched as Black*Star animatedly told his friends of his plane ride and the hospitality we'd offered. My face was getting redder and redder as the moments went on.

"Oh my death," I muttered to myself through gritted teeth, "I can't believe I didn't recognize him. This is so embarrassing. So much for my ever wanting to be a Death Scythe. A true student of the DWMA would have recognized them on-sight! I'm a failure!" My head flopped onto the cushion behind me as I simmered in my own disappointment. On top of my idiocy, there was a spider dangling from a string on the ceiling that immediately annoyed me. After a brief moment, I transformed my left arm into that of a blade and stabbed the tiny devil.

"What was that?" A voice yelped from the mirror.

"Oh, Kai!" Black*Star jumped up and pulled me over, nearly spearing both of us on my arm in one fluid motion before I frantically turned it back into flesh. "This is my weapon! Her name is Kai!"

I waved shyly, a blush layering itself neatly over my already red face. "It's nice to meet you all."

On each of the four corners of the screen there was a different face. Maka Alburn, the blonde who was the leader of Team Maka, smiled cheerfully as she introduced herself. Next was her weapon, Soul Evans. The albino had a calm expression on, but I could tell that he was experiencing the same sort of strain I was with his meister being gone. Death the Kid, Lord Death's very own son, said hello to me while muttering something about symmetry and suddenly collapsing off-screen. Self-consciously I glanced down at myself before remembering my asymmetrical bangs and sheepishly grinning.

"Don't worry about him, he's always doing stuff like that!" Soul snickered, sharper-than-normal teeth glinting as he grinned. "He's OCD about symmetry. Not even his weapons are good enough for him!"

"Their boobs aren't the same size!" Kid screeched, jumping back into the frame with blood spewing from his nose. "How am I supposed to focus when they're boobs aren't the same size?"

"What is it with guys and boobs?" Maka snorted, shaking her head. "Is that all you think about?"

Soul, Kid, and Black*Star seemed to consider it for a second. "You wouldn't understand, tiny-tits." Soul shrugged.

I stood there for a moment, watching the friends interact. It was clear that they all cared for each other very much, and it made me miss my meister even more. Watching Black*Star and his friends talk, I realized I might as well check on Warren. Tapping my chin thoughtfully, I wondered what he could possibly be doing. Did he like his new weapon? More importantly: _was she a stronger weapon than I was?_ Resolving myself, I shook my head. There was no way she had my strength. But then again, maybe that was just me being… well, me.

"Speaking of Liz and Patty, where are they?" Maka asked Kid. As always, it was strange to watch a multiple-way mirror call. I couldn't quite describe, why it was strange, or how it worked really, but each character seemed to look exactly where the other was. Very complicated shinigami stuff, I supposed.

"They got sent to Australia!" Kid moaned, once again sinking off-screen.

"Seems Team Maka is completely split up then!" Black*Star remarked somewhat seriously. I glanced at his face, noticing the pucker of his brow, and wondered what exactly the assassin was thinking.

"I don't understand why your dad would split us up when we just proved we're stronger together," Maka sighed, "but I suppose Shinigami-sama knows best!"

"He has to have his reasons," Tsubaki murmured, biting her lip delicately, "Sometimes things are just more obvious from different points of view."

Kid made a sort of huffing noise and frowned, thinking quietly for a moment. The conversation went on, and I discreetly left the room to let them have their peace. Stomach growling, I stepped into the kitchen to see if there was anything to keep me from eating the entire pizza when it got here. It wasn't that I cared much for what Black*Star thought of me, but he was probably hungry after the day we'd had so far. Rooting around in the cupboards yielded a single granola bar, which I ate greedily while walking to my room. My vanity had a mirror on it, so sitting on the stool and making a quick call to my meister seemed like a good way to pass the time while waiting for the pizza.

Fogging up the glass, I etched the numbers in the condensation with my pinkie finger and waited patiently for my meister's face to pop up. The mirror went inky black, reflecting nothing and showing nothing.

I frowned and tapped on the glass lightly, "That's weird."

Suddenly the mirror exploded into shards of glass, as if something had been thrown into it and broken it. With a yelp I transformed to get myself out of the way of the sharp flying objects, landing on the floor as a small Scottish dirk. The noise left my ears ringing even though I was a blade. The sudden silence was so contrasting that I was startled when Black*Star burst into the room.

"Kai?"

"Down here!" I sighed, tilting myself slightly so the light flashed off my blade.

Paying little mind to the fact that he was walking through glass, Black*Star stomped over to me with his boots and scooped me up of the ground. As he walked me out of the room, away from the glass so I could turn back into a human and _not _cut my feet up, he weighed my blade in his hand. I couldn't help but notice the way his nose wrinkled as he felt my balance. My pride stung and recoiled as I waited for his verdict, already knowing what he was going to say.

"You're really light," my meister frowned, "Tsubaki was weighted differently, too."

I crossed my arms within my blade form, "She was a Japanese weapon! I'm Scottish! It makes a difference!"

"Does the make a difference?"

"Of course!" I snorted, shocked that he was serious. "Don't you do any of your classwork? A weapon's form can be influenced by their nationality. Example: I'm a Scottish dirk – or dagger – as well as a claymore and a longbow."

With that I shifted my form into that of my proudest form: a two-handed claymore. If I was one to gloat, which I often was, I would say that I was an absolutely gorgeous weapon. My handle was steel gray with gold etchings, my blade black like onyx and harder than diamonds. Black*Star gave me a few experimental swings, at first using only one hand before switching to two. From the moment I knew we were going to have some problems: he wasn't fluid in his motions, nor did he have any idea how to wield a weapon my size. I could tell almost instantly that Tsubaki was more than likely a much smaller, lighter sword because he had very little balance as he swung, nearly sending us into the coffee table.

That poor coffee table got abused.

"You're huge," he grunted, "But how is it that we're able to resonate so quickly? I thought weapons and meisters had to adjust their wavelengths first?"

I laughed, "That one's easy: I have really good control over my soul wavelength. I can adapt it really easily, so I just matched yours."

"One of my professors can do that too," Black*Star allowed me to return to my human form, "He taught me a little bit, but I've always been able to attack with my wavelength, yet another reason I'm such a big star!" He smirked.

I was saved from my rising irritation at his overconfidence by the doorbell ringing at that second signaling the pizza's arrival. Yanking the door open, grabbing the food, I shoved a wad of bills from my pocket at the delivery boy – including a tip that was probably more than the pizza itself – and shut the door quickly to avoid conversation. The pizza boy had done nothing wrong, but I felt like I wanted to take out my irritation on someone whose relationship with me wouldn't impact the course of the entire next year.

If I had a choice, there was no way Black*Star would have been my meister. He was loud and obnoxious, which struck me as odd considering he was supposed to be training as an _assassin. _It was clear to me that he was unhappy with me as a weapon – I could feel it through our resonance. It wasn't as if he didn't think I was pretty, which was a good thing for him, but he was uncomfortable with such a large sword. The only thing that even slightly fit him so far was the dagger.

And not to complain, but being a dagger hurt my back after a little while. So maybe I was just biased.

He hadn't even seen my longbow form yet and I had a distinct feeling that he wasn't going to like that much either, considering all of him that I had seen portrayed him as more of a face-head-on sort of guy. I huffed irritably as I put the box on the table, padding into the kitchen to grab two plates. The glass felt cold in my hand, bringing me out of my head. How much did it really matter if I didn't like how Black*Star reacted to my weapons? We were stuck with each other for the next year so it wasn't as if we could do much to change our situation. I smoothed out my expression in the reflection on the plate, smiling experimentally. A year. That was all I had to handle and then Black*Star and his ecstatic talking and one-track mind would be back in Japan with Team Maka and I would be back with Warren. I would tell everyone how amazing it had been to be the 'Great' Black*Star's weapon, and then that would be it. Warren would turn me into a death scythe and life would go on.

"Alright, I got some plates!" I chirped as I went back into the living room, "I hope you're… what the fuck?"

The pizza was gone.

Staring at Black*Star – who was rubbing his full stomach – I attempted to appear as if inside I wasn't imagining him bursting into spontaneous flames at that second. Pizza sauce was all over his face. I clenched the plates so hard they cracked in my fingers, cutting into the soft skin and suddenly a bead of blood trickled down my wrist but I barely noticed. All I could feel was the emptiness of my stomach and the dark anger sitting clouding my mind. My teeth ground together as I collected myself and spun on my heel, silently stomping to the sink and dropping the plates inside it ceremonially before going to my room without a word. If either of us was going to survive to make it back to our partners, it was best if I kept my thoughts to myself.

There was still glass on my floor, though, so I had to awkwardly hop around so I could shove my sockless feet into some shoes and venture back to the kitchen for the broom. While muttering angry things to myself the entire time, I swept the shards off of my wooden floor, taking care to check my sheets for any. The flow of mad energy that had been buzzing through me had faded slightly, so when I saw Black*Star in the hallway, walking slowly to his room as if having just woken from a nap – a sure sign of a food coma – I didn't exactly want to tear his throat out and choke him with it. Possible damage his ability to reproduce. I hadn't decided yet.

"I'll see you in the morning, bright and early for school." I said in a curt monotone as I brushed past him to throw away the bits of my mirror. My words solicited a bit of a groan I took as an affirmation. As soon as I was done with my business, I moved quickly back to my bedroom and shut the door, turning off the light and jumping under the covers in hopes that sleep would possibly lull my steady resentment into compliance, maybe even get rid of it all together. This, of course, was when I heard a crash and something that sounded like Black*Star sneezing.

"Don't worry! A big star like me can fix something as small as this!" Came his shout.

That was only the first night.


	5. Chapter 4: Kai

(Authors Note: A few of you may have noticed that I've had some issues with chapter numbering... my fanfiction newb side is showing! But it's all fixed, and this is CHAPTER FOUR! *applause* This is one of the last beginning chapters, about two more until the plot thickens: dun dun duuhh! Anywho, thanks for your support guys! And go ahead, PM me if you see any mistakes or, hey, if you just wanna chat about the story - spoilers excluded!)

Chapter Four: Kai: A Leap Through Time

Five months, three weeks, six days, four hours, twenty-two minutes. This was how long it had been since this stupid ass exchange program had started, Also know as how long it had been since I had gotten a decent night's sleep; since I had made dinner without guarding my portion with one arm transformed into a sword. Black*Star had learned very quickly that my food was not to be touched.

The coffee table had been broken a record number of times: seven. I was amazed that I was able to repair it every time, so to prevent it from being broken again, I had moved it into my room a week ago. In our partnership, we had taken to a silent opposition while we were alone. It wasn't as if our soul resonance wasn't strong nor was it that he still disliked me as a weapon. In fact, Black*Star had taken to my Scottish blades and bow like a fish to water, adapting his fighting style within the first month. To be honest, if was more of a personality conflict than anything.

Our resonance had been uncannily quick, as Ian and Zach were _still _having issues resonating with _their _borrowed meister. It seemed that out of all the exchanged pairs, in fact, we had acclimated the fastest. In all seriousness, Black*Star and I had taken more kishin in five months than Warren and I had in almost two years, which was a fact that I couldn't ignore. Maybe it was this that irritated me. Maybe I hated him because he was doing a better job at wielding me than my own meister, who was halfway across the world who-knows-where with who-knows-who: I still hadn't been able to reach him through the mirrors. Every surface that I had tried had given me the same broken-glass effect, which hadn't been pleasant in most cases. One time I'd had to get stitches on my cheek, so now I was left with a thin scar.

Back to Black*Star: perhaps _hate_ was a strong word. Severely disliked? Annoyed with? Our relationship was an odd thing considering we were supposed to trust each other with our lives yet we could barely have a conversation without one of us killing the other. We took missions often because Black*Star didn't like school, but I on the other hand was struggling to maintain my 4.0 GPA. The teachers at the DWMAA _did _accept missions as a reasonable excuse to miss classes, but we were going out so often that I practically lived at school when we weren't fighting kishin. Black*Star cared more about maintain and bettering himself than he did his grades, often doing some pretty idiotic stuff in the process.

This morning, as I stared at the teacher who was explaining something or another about different types of special abilities through soul resonance, I was a little more steamed than usual. Black*Star had bought himself a pig last week (don't ask, I don't know) and this morning had decided that, to be stronger, the pig had to go through a 'horrific obstacle course'. The obstacle course consisted of the coffee table suspended by a string that would be cut by scissors if you stepped on a certain floorboard, a hallway full of tripwires that dropped a multitude of different substances on you if you tripped them, and Black*Star himself throwing random objects at you while you sprinted the last few meters to the safety of the front door. Though the pig did _not_ go through the obstacle course, I had the pleasure of having a coffee table fall. On. My. Head. Then, caramel, ketchup, and a liquid that was more than suspicious were dumped on my head as I stumbled through the hall, a feather pillow bursting on impact with my face as I walked away like a soldier who's just been through a terrible battle.

Needless to say, I'm not a very happy redhead today.

"School is so boring!" Black*Star griped, tilting his head closer to mine. "Why do we have to be here? There was a new mission up on the board and everything!"

I mustered up my fiercest glare and pegged him with it, watching as a drop of sweat appeared on his face. He attempted a smirk before looking away quickly, sinking slightly lower in his chair with a faint blush on his cheeks. A part of me admitted that I should be easier on him: it wasn't as if he was trying to make me angry right now, and really this morning had been an accident, but seriously! Who sets up an obstacle course for a pig at five in the morning? Of all the retarded things to do… he goes and picks that one. Where does the guy even come up with this shit?

"Miss Blair, do you know of any special techniques that are particular to scythes?"

Blinking, I returned my attention to the teacher. Amanda Roades – Ms. Roades to all us students – was one of the many past DWMA students that taught here. It almost seemed like once meisters graduated they had practically nothing to do with their lives, one of the many reasons I was glad I was a weapon. We were rather indispensable. Meisters might just end up _teachers, _though if they were lucky Lord Death employed them to wield on of his death scythes.

This time, however, I was excited to answer her question. Special techniques were a favorite topic of mine and the little information that was documented, I knew. Names, dates, families, famous techniques... I studied them to a cult-like degree. Ms. Roades smiled at me expectantly from the front of the room, nonverbally giving me command of how deep I went into my own knowledge.

"Kami Alburn, a meister from the Japanese branch of the DWMA, created several of the most famous techniques," I began, practically jumping up and down at the chance to speak about my favorite subject. "Among those were Witch Hunter and Genie Hunter. This last spring, though, another level was added: Kishin Hunter. By Kami's daughter, Maka Alburn."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Black*Star react with surprise, whether it was from my knowledge of the topic or how passionately I spoke of it. I paid little mind, continuing to speak. "The Nakatsukasa Clan is also quite famous for their special abilities and techniques, including the Enchanted Sword currently used by Tsubaki Nakatsukasa as well as countless others."

Ms. Roades smiled, knowing my knowledge was rather unabashedly in-depth when it came to this sort of stuff, and asked me another question to fuel the fire: "What fosters a technique?"

This one was a little more difficult. I could feel the eyes of my classmates on me as I put together my answer. Black*Star especially seemed to be waiting to see how I would response, actually interested in a classroom discussion for once.

"It often runs through families, similar to the Nakatsukasa Clan. Those are hereditary. That's when it's more important to fit the weapon to a meister who's able to handle the side effects of the technique, because many are taxing on the soul." I paused, sorting out my words for the rest of my answer. "Most commonly, special techniques such as the Witch, Genie, and Kishin Hunter are developed through strong souls. Through resonance between two strong souls; that's often when techniques are created."

"You're completely correct," Ms. Roades grinned, glancing around the room. "Now, can anyone else tell me this: are techniques specific to meister, or to weapon?"

This was simple, for me. The rest of the room silently considered the question. It was a fifty-fifty chance at being correct, so it wasn't as if they couldn't take a guess. There was a lack of motion, however, that shocked me: were people really this clueless about this kind of stuff? Wasn't it nearly every weapon's dream to have their own special technique, right next to becoming a death scythe?

Surprisingly, it was Black*Star that raised his hand. "It's weapon specific."

"Like weapon, like meister," Ms. Roades murmured with a level of amazement, also shocked by Black*Star's participation. "That's correct, often weapons have the ability to do a singular technique, but it's a matter of whether or not their soul is strong enough, whether their meister's soul is strong enough, to handle performing the technique. Many weapons have techniques in common, however, it is true that some meisters have the ability to inspire a weapon to perform a special ability, such as the case of Ms. Alburn."

Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Everyone stood as quickly as they possibly could, gathering their materials so they could leave as soon as possible. Black*Star, having brought nothing to class, begrudgingly waited as I stacked my books on top of each other, sticking my notebook in the crook of my elbow. He was being uncharacteristically silent today. It was obvious something was on his mind and, as his weapon, I felt led to ask him what it was that was bugging him, but I was pulled to the side by Ms. Roades before we even reached the door.

Black*Star paused at the door, "Make it quick, 'kay? I'm hungry today and a big star like me can't afford to go hungry for too long, you know!"

I rolled my eyes, "I'll come when I'm good and ready!"

Turning back to my teacher, I heard the door shut heavily behind me, signaling Black*Star's exit. A sympathetic look was on Ms. Roades's face as she watched the interaction. "I see things are going well," she commented, a slight tone of sarcasm in her voice.

"You've met him," Sighing dryly, I glanced back at the closed door. "It's a miracle I can adapt my soul to his at all. We're practically complete opposites."

"You're probably more alike than you think," she smiled, "Alike magnets often repel each other. A fine line, love and hate and all that."

My jaw dropped, disgust marring my features. "No. Don't even suggest a thing like that! That guy is… so… no. That could never happen. That's revolting!"

Ms. Roades seemed stunned by my reaction, momentarily taken aback at my zealousness. Even I was a little shocked, a little depressed by my feelings for my meister. I knew that Black*Star and I were only partners out of force, but I had still hoped that we could have been friends. Apparently even after five months I was still holding onto that hope.

"I mean," I corrected myself, much quieter than before, "I don't have time to consider things like _that_. And Black*Star wouldn't be my first choice, though even I will admit that he does have some admirable qualities. But," biting my lip, screwing my eyes up in confusion, "what does this have to do with anything?"

"Oh! Yes!" She clapped her hands, grabbing up an envelope from her desk and shoving it into my hands. "This came from Lord Death. All Exchange Program Students are to attend a ball in two days' time, the instructions on how to get there are in that envelope. I've been told to tell you not to share any of what's in there with anyone except for your meister, are we clear?" She looked me squarely in the eyes, sternly frowning.

"Of course, Ms. Roades!"

I turned quickly, moving towards the door.

"And one more thing, Kai!" I stopped, turning with my hand still on the door handle, "Black*Star and you both, you'd be surprised what will happen when you take the time to understand the other person."

Leaving me to stew on that, she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.


	6. Chapter 5: Kai

(Author's Note: Nya, hello ducklings. Apologies for the longish wait, we were moving and there was no wi-fi! It was terrible! Anyways... I considered re-writing this chapter because I wasn't sure if I wanted to reveal this much about Kai so soon, or if the whole... thing was unnecessary, but I had my partner in crime look over it and she said it check out. Have fun!)

Chapter Five: Kai: Injured Pride and Past Awakened

Black*Star was waiting outside when I shoved the door open, an angry look on his face. I was surprised, to say the least, that he was still here, but even more surprised by the look in his eyes when he faced me. The anger and the hurt was quickly masked by his usual foolish arrogance as he grinned widely and started strutting down the hall beside me. Tapping the envelope against my thigh as we walked, I frowned ahead. Why would Lord Death be throwing a ball for the exchange students? With the amount of difficulty most new partners were having with soul resonance, it seemed to me that seeing their old companion might be a bit counterproductive.

"What'd the teacher want?" Black*Star asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow at me, "Seem to me it was pretty important if she's giving you stuff for it. Did she give us extra-credit?"

"Na, just some stuff from Lord Death." Shoving the letter in one of my books, I took them from his arms, "Thanks for carrying these for me. We'll open it up when we get home, alright?"

My meister merely grunted, pausing as we walked past the mission board. The mission board was one of the few places in the DWMAA that looked out of the ordinary – otherwise it looked nearly like a normal American high school. Here, though, it was the same design as it was in every DWMA, and whether it was the missions or the looks of the board: you could see a certain look in some of the teen's eyes when they looked at that board. Whenever we were searching for a mission, we reacted as normal teens would: mild interest, excitement when we found one that looked to be our skill level. There was an underlying blood lust to it all, a fight-savvy spark that traveled through each of us. Missions brought out our inner love of our jobs.

"Kai!"

"No Black*Star, we just came back from a mission! Plus, we have plans in a few days!"

The ninja ran to me and dragged me back to the board, shoving my face near one of the posted missions. "Look though! A big star like me and a strong weapon like you would take care of this in no time! And you'd be one step closer to being a death scythe!"

Flattery and bribery in the same sentence. He really wanted to go on this mission.

"Tom Thumb in Florida," I mused, "I guess we could take care of it in two days if we left right after lunch…"

"Then let's go!" He shouted, whooping and jumping down the hall towards the office to get our mission approved. I followed distantly, stopping at my locker momentarily to put away the books I didn't need, take the envelope, and pack my necessities into my backpack quickly. By the time that was all done, Black*Star had bounded all the way down the hall and was now excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited by the service window. I quickly joined him, slightly flattened under my heavy load, and watched silently as the lady behind the glass noticed us and rolled her eyes. We'd been here a lot in the last five months.

"Again, Black*Star?" She sighed as she slid aside the glass. Her hair, though it seemed impossible, was even more dull that her voice. "You just got back. Shouldn't you be studying?"

"Who needs to study when you're as big a star as me?" Black*Star scoffed, leaning up against the frame of the window with one shoulder and crossing his arms, "School won't help me surpass god, you know."

The receptionist gives me an almost pleading look, but at this point I feel like I need to get out of school again. I could just as easily learn a lot of our lessons on my own, in the field. Simply shrugging, I readjusted the backpack on my shoulders. She would get no help from me.

"Alright then. Which one do you want to take?"

"Tom Thumb, Florida." I offered, flicking my head in a swift motion to get my red bangs out of my eyes. "Tickets out as soon as possible, we have to be back by Friday."

With a huff of displeasure, she began clicking away at her computer to set up our mission. I took a moment to study my meister, wondering what was going through his head today. Then again, I wondered what was going on in that seemingly empty head of his _every _day, but today was somehow different. Maybe it was that he'd actually paid slight attention in class – which was a miracle in itself – or maybe it was what Ms. Roades had said, but my great annoyance with my meister was suddenly couple with curiosity.

What exactly made Black*Star who he was?

The boy caught my eyes and raised a singular blue eyebrow, muscles tensing as something flickered across his face. Immediately he looked away, the corners of his mouth turning down and his expression souring. It was such a strange look, him seeming actually _negative_, that for once my hate of his arrogance was stunned right out of me.

"Hey, what's up?" Concerned, I shifted towards my meister, my natural instinct as his weapon to confront whatever it was with him - or for him, depending on the situation. A touch of my hand on his shoulder elicited a surprising reaction from both of us: his body jolting as his eyes got rounder than a McDonald's cheeseburger patty, my palm erupting into tingles. The both of us awkwardly stared at each other for a long moment as my fingers hovered above his skin, our faces equal shades of red.

"Plane leaves in two hours, here's your tickets."

I quickly snatched the tickets, avoiding her eyes and spinning on my heel so I didn't have to face either of them. Walking quickly down the hall, I glanced quietly at the tickets in my hand, reading over the sheet of instructions she'd also handed me. Black*Star, with all his exaggeration, had probably been right about this mission probably taking a very short time for us. It was just a small town in Florida plagued by a dwarf-gone-kishin who was terrorizing teens and eating their souls. After facing things like the Loch Ness Monster – in which I had been able to show off my homeland to the blue-haired meister – dwarves didn't exactly seem like the hardest thing to take on.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!" Twisting around, I caught sight of my meister trailing behind me at a distance. "We'll miss our ride if we don't eat fast!"

Even from a distance I could see a brief battle on his face, but his usual exuberance/arrogance won out: shouting 'Yahoo!' he sprinted down the hall, grabbing my arm and half-dragging me to the lunchroom. Glancing down at his black boots, the smile on his face, my hand in his, I was struck by a fond feeling for him. Despite the fact that he acted like an arrogant, workout-happy dumbass about 99% of the time, he was dedicated at least. He knew what he wanted to do with his life, even if his goal seemed rather unattainable to me. He was loyal; passionate.

All in all, Black*Star wasn't a bad guy at all, but I still couldn't stand him half the time.

We burst into the lunchroom in a cascade of noise, nearly running three or four people over in Black*Star's haste to eat food. As soon as we reached said food, he then grabbed two lunch trays and piled them with as many types of sustenance as would fit on the school trays and slammed it onto the table where our friends were sitting. Ian and Rose immediately glued themselves to his sides while Zach and Morris, accompanied by Hannah (Zach and Ian's borrowed Filipino meister,), all shook their heads in silence at the spectacle. I sat across from him, next to the dark-haired Hannah, and watched in amusement.

"Kai, what was up with you this morning?" Morris questioned, stuffing a cheeseburger in his mouth.

Zach glanced up from his food, nodding. "You seemed pissed when you walked in."

"This one," I pointed my fork at Black*Star with a glare, "Decided his pig wasn't strong enough to wrestle with and set up an obstacle course in the hallway, complete with tripwires, a falling coffee table, and feather pillows accompanied by sticky substances. The pig didn't go through the obstacle course."

"Ouch," even Ian winced a little bit.

"It was your own fault!" Black*Star smirked, "Maybe if you were stronger you would have gotten through!"

Irritation spiked in my chest, my eyes narrowing on his. "Who the _fuck _sets up an obstacle course in the frickin' hallway just to get stronger when they're sober?"

Rose giggled, "She has a point, Black*Star. It does seem a little silly."

Sulkily, Black*Star glared right back at me, "That's why I'm going to surpass god and why you're never going to be a death scythe: you don't have the skill I've got."

Onto my feet I went, all warm fuzzies for my meister burning up in a fire of fury. My nails scraped across the table as my hands made tight fists. Right arm completely taken by a buzzing sensation that occurred when I was close to transforming, I dared him silently to say anything, _do _anything, that would give me a reason to slash him to pieces right then and there. Balanced on my toes, I was ready to attack.

Despite my silent warning, he continued to speak. "I don't even know if you have the skill it takes to be a death scythe. All you are is a wannabe, not a star."

"Take it back," I threatened in a low voice, practically spitting in my rage.

My meister stood as well, slowly, his eyes full of a challenge. "Angry, Kai?"

"Violently!"

Snarling, I leaped over the table and crashed into my meister, my fist raised for the first punch. A hand caught mine while Black*Star flipped us over, his weight slamming down on mine just as my other hand barreled into his stomach. My wrist and knuckles ached from the impact, but the wind was knocked out of him and he lost himself just enough that I was able to wiggle my way out from under him and attempt to slam my heel into his face.

My ankle twisted painfully in his hand, his soul wavelength lashing out at mine. As I felt him reach out, I changed the wavelength of my soul and absorbed the impact, taking my own strength and then attacking with a different wavelength all together. Black*Star's back arched in pain and he went slack, his grip loosening around my foot as I scrambled away and to my feet.

"Guys, not in the lunch room!" Ian whined, peeking from behind his hands.

Rose smacked his shoulder, popping a piece of broccoli in her mouth as if it were popcorn. "Shuttup, Ian! This is getting good!"

We stood across from each other, practically entire the lunchroom watching, both our chests heaving. I put my weight on my ankle and tears filled my eyes before I blinked quickly to get rid of them. Black*Star was sporting two parallel scratch marks on his cheekbone where I'd gotten a good length of skin, nearly reaching all the way to his chin. I was hurt – inside and out – and angry and all I wanted to do was pound that annoying boy into the ground. Instead, we just stood there facing each other, both of us holding onto our pain and rage and bottling it up for the sake of our partnership because we knew: _this was not how a weapon and a meister were supposed to act._ This is why, when Black*Star offered me his hand with a grunt, I took it and pretended that he hadn't caused me any sort of pain, hadn't made me feel smaller than a bug on the floor that he'd ecstatically squash if he wasn't forced to keep alive.

Just like that, we sat back down. Unfortunately, I had to go all the way around the long banquet-style table just to get to my own spot, so it was a painful walk of shame in which I tried my best not to limp and those around me tried to be as obvious as humanly possible in their observation of me. The seat felt like a miracle when I sat down and started silently shoving as much food in my mouth as I could without puking. Bile rose in my throat like an elevator of mass destruction, burning at the misery foodstuff I tried to choke down, but I pretended like I didn't want to hurl and continued with my rapid consumption to distract myself from what I was feeling. It was entirely stupid and immature and I wanted more than anything to stop, but I couldn't help but feel sick with myself so _why not?_

To sum it up: I was falling back into old, pre-Warren habits. Later I was probably going to give into the second part of my old tradition and dispose of it all, but I couldn't think of that right now.

It wasn't until all the food on my tray was gone did I realize just _how_ soon I was going to continue with my old practice, but my body immediately fell into the groove and suddenly I was excusing myself from the table and continuing with my pitiful existence. I went and cried in the bathroom, vomiting as well, and memories of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy surfacing. Shadows of a father who had been ashamed of his freak of a second daughter and smacked her around because he'd thought she couldn't fight back. The same sliminess, the same disgust with myself was crawling over my skin and I was left wondering how the hell I'd returned to this place.

_Weapons were viewed differently where I'd come from, the rules were different. My tiny Scottish town had hated my mother's abilities and had driven her to depression. I had been so young when she'd left – I hadn't come into my own ability yet. Then, when I'd reached maturity, my father had tried so hard to keep it secret. He had been ashamed. _

_I didn't have to worry about that anymore._

I was done. I wiped my mouth, pushed myself off of the ground, and straightened my clothes. The toilet flushed, washing away evidence of my breakdown, and I went out to the sink and cupped my hands for some water to rinse out the taste in my mouth. My own steel gray eyes met my reflection's, seeing the way they weren't even red though I'd been sobbing silently for five minutes, though they were slightly swollen. I felt absolutely disgusted and confused, hating myself for returning to my old ways.

It was weak. It couldn't happen again. Not because of Black*Star; not because of _anyone. _No matter how painful the memories got.

_How much time has it been since I have thought of my father_, I thought silently as I stared at the girl in the mirror. Already _she _was repairing herself. Her expression was one of silent determination, her eyes retaining some of the same haunted look she used to always wear. My life at the DWMAA had effectively pushed away my past with the help of Warren, erasing my scars with the illusion that life was better when you were killing with a purpose. They took a troubled child and put gloves over her bloodstained hands to pretend she wasn't a monster. Upon my acceptance into this school I'd let them smooth me over. I enjoyed pretending that I was a perfectly sane, perfectly unmarred soul, but the fact was: I wasn't.

An idea overtook me and I fogged up the glass with my breath, needing to talk to Warren. The fact that mirrors shattered whenever I had recently attempted to speak to him momentarily escaped my mind as I wrote his number in the glass and waited, only realizing my mistake when the inky black shadow spread throughout the surface. Panic flew through me as I stared wide-eyed at the full-sized mirror and, a split second before the break, hit the deck.

The crash was louder than it had ever been, and more vicious. Shards embedded themselves into the tiles of the opposite wall, others rained down on me and slashed at my skin as their sharp edges scraped across my neck. They covered me like a prickly blanket, so much so that I had to force myself not to move because I was afraid I would impale myself on one of the nearby pieces. I hissed as I felt some of the tinier pieces land in my hair, on my skin, cutting miniscule little gashes that hurt like bee stings.

A wind erupted through the room, smelling of salty air and bringing the sound of waves. A high keening noise vibrated my eardrums, my neck twisting in a foolish attempt to shield myself from the sound. I looked up, trying to see my way out of the craziness that had enveloped me, but instead saw that I was the center of a freak wind storm. The bathroom stall doors slammed loudly, snapping open and shut like reaching jaws. Tiles ripped off of the walls, combining with a strange vapor that tasted like seawater in my mouth and burned like acid in my eyes. I couldn't do anything but stare, caught without a meister or an opponent.

_"Stay away…"_

I tried to turn, but there was no one behind me, no on even near me.

"Kai?"

This is when I blinked, thoroughly confused and shaken. The bathroom was just as it should have been, not a thing out of order except for the singular broken mirror. My hands were braced against the ground in pools of blood, a few scratches welling up as well. Black*Star, seeming rather concerned, just stood there and watched me like I was an animal that should be approached slowly.

Staring at the scene before me, I didn't even know what to say. Shards of glass tumbled from my hair and shoulders as I stumbled to my feet, at once feeling dizzy. My feet nearly went out from under me, but Black*Star appeared and supported me as we walked out of the bathroom. Head spinning, stomach churning, I very nearly asked him to take me back in there so I could lose what was left of my lunch, but my body returned to normal after we exited the bathroom. It was as if a spell had been broken – I quickly pushed away from Black*Star (who I was still mad at) and stood on my own two feet for a moment. Confusion and suspicion darted through my mind as I glanced back at the mess, my eyes cool and calculating.

"Kishin hunting will do me some good," I mumbled, half reassuring myself and half reassuring my meister. "Let's go catch that plane, okay?"

"Alright," Black*Star cheered, but I detected a flash of worry in his normally so-sure attitude.

"I'm fine," I said, this time putting my strength behind my words, "Grab your bags and let's go!"


	7. Chapter 6: Kai

(Author's Note: Just a reminder, reviews mean soo much to me! You know that creepy otaku smile you get when you're watching your favorite anime on your computer and something goes fantastically right? That's me EVERY TIME I see a review. It's a little awkward, now that I think about it... Anyways! This ends on a little bit of a cliffhanger. For those of you who're curious about the mirrors... hehe, soon enough, my ducklings...)

Chapter Six: Tiny Kishin, Big Problem

We got a ride to the airport via the DWMAA's complimentary chauffeur service – a genius idea considering most students weren't old enough to get their licenses yet. Black*Star was psyching himself up the entire ride, going on and on about how a big star like him would smash the little kishin within seconds.

With my help, of course.

The plane took off and, within minutes, my big-shot meister had fallen asleep. Black*Star snored on my shoulder the entire time, drooling slightly. Though I was still angry, I couldn't exactly push him off of me. Heartless was one thing I wasn't – anymore. The Kai Blair I was now was caring, and kind, _had a heart_… but also a bit of a temper. Sue me.

_"Flight 042 ready for landing in Tallahassee, Florida. Please sit in your seats and buckle your seats belts. Estimate arrival time is ten minutes."_

I nudged my meister slightly, watching a rather fat droplet of spittle as it was dragged back in and out of his mouth with his breath. "Black*Star, we're nearly there. You have to wake up!"

No response.

I tried a different tactic: poking him slightly in the ribs. All this got me was the sucking in of said droplet of slobber and a content sigh. Face-palming, I gave up on trying to wake him. I knew him well enough to know that it would take a bomb to wake him up before he was ready. Softly, I reached around his waist and snagged a part of the seat belt, wiggling a little bit so that I could grasp the other end in my other hand. After the assassin was buckled in, safe and snug, I settled back into my own chair to relax for the last few minutes of the flight. Flying had always been a fun thing for me and I had gotten to do it more often than ever before when I joined the DWMAA. It was one of the many things I loved about my job.

Black*Star shivered and curled up into the fetal position – a feat that I was unsure quite how he'd accomplished, with being buckled in and all. Closer into my side he burrowed, appearing more a cold child than an over-confidant, arrogant, obnoxious jackass. He groaned a little in his sleep, shivering again, and I figured he must be a little too chilly. It was a little pointless to call for a blanket, and taking off my jacket would jostle him too much, so I settled on turning on the warm air so he could soak in a little warmth.

Looking up to adjust the heat settings, I caught the eyes of an older couple watching us. They were both smiling sweetly, eyeing the two of us as if we were a fond memory. There was a twinkle in the lady's eyes as she her smile warmed tenfold, seeing me returning her gaze. Nodding towards us politely, she turned to the older man and they began whispering, chuckling to each other. Even though I thought it was peculiar, I returned to my current mission and fiddled with the dial, turning it so that it would blow a little warm air on my sleeping meister. I rationalized this with myself: he was cold, cold could lead to hypothermia or pneumonia, and a meister with less than ten fingers and ten toes or full use of his less-than-godly lungs couldn't wield a weapon! Perfect sense, of course.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Turning my head, my gray eyes once again met those of the elder couple. Again, the both smiled at us tenderly, their irises filled with understanding. What exactly they understood, I didn't know, but it was nice to see the elderly so sure of themselves. You hear a lot about them being old and infirm, it's rather age-ist.

"My husband and I couldn't help but say something," the lady smiled softly, "You two remind us so much of ourselves when we were young and in love, but mistakes of the past teach us things." She now grew serious, looking me in the eye: "Please tell me you two aren't eloping."

My face flushed hotly, my throat clogged with shock as I quickly began shaking my head and trying to explain – but no words came out. I was left, my head jerking back and forth quickly, my mouth going open and close like a fish trying to breathe.

"He and I aren't- We're not- There's no-", I began, my sentences crashing into each other like mini freight trains, halting and twisting themselves. To make matters worse, Black*Star chose this moment to stretch his arm around me – still asleep – and nuzzle my neck. Already beet red, I couldn't blush anymore, and I silently prayed for Lord Death to give me a quick and merciful death. Anything would be better than this situation.

Finally, after a deep breath, I got the words out: "We're not together. He's just a friend who I'm taking with me so I don't have to spend time with my…" I paused, attempting to find a good excuse, "My_ little brother _alone."

Apologetically, the old couple nodded. We all spoke together for a few moments, laughing as the plane hit a small patch of turbulence, then bid each other adieu as the plane touched the ground. I was beyond glad that we'd finally reached our destination, but I still had the small problem of the sleeping boy next to me. Nudging him hadn't worked, and I didn't feel like being too mean, so I just sat there for an idiot for a few moments while staring at the top of his head. How could someone so obnoxious be such a heavy sleeper? And how is it that he actually smelled decent – not of sweat or B.O. at least – even though he was clueless when it came to doing laundry? Perhaps I would never know, but it gave me things to think about when I was idle.

"Black*Star…" I shook my shoulder a bit, jostling his head slightly. "We're in Florida. There's a kishin waiting."

He groaned slightly and his eyebrows pulled together, "I don't wanna wake up yet…"

Sighing, I frowned and glanced around. The plane was all but empty, and the flight attendant had spotted us and was making her way down the aisle. It was a time for a lack of mercy, no matter how much I wanted to give it. I unbuckled my seatbelt and, rather suddenly, removed myself out from under Black*Star's head smoothly and jumped into the aisle. The assassin's head fell quickly onto the armrest with a painful crack that made me wince. I felt instantly horrible when Black*Star shot awake, his eyes filling slightly in a natural instinct to pain. Apologetically, I pointed towards the surrounding emptiness. He got the clue, sighing and unbuckling his seat, staring at the buckle with a confused expression before standing and reaching into the cubby where our carry-on bags were stashed.

"I tried to wake you up," taking my bag, I attempted to explain my use of unnecessary rudeness. "None of the usual would work so I had to improvise."

Black*Star shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal. "When you're the guy who's going to surpass god, a little knock to the head doesn't feel like much!"

Gone was the innocent guy who'd been drooling on my shoulder, returned was the overconfident bastard who talked himself up every few moments. For a brief moment I considered knocking him out again, but I decided it would be unwise with all the security guards around. They probably wouldn't take too kindly if a sixteen-year old girl suddenly turned her arm into a sword and smacked some guy upside the head – not to mention all the 'rules of the universe' that the simple humans had set up for themselves. Breaking their barriers would be like exposing a virgin to the teachings of a prostitute… everyone would be fucked.

"You don't move all that fast, do you?" Black*Star scoffed as I exited the plane. The Florida air had hit me like a tidal wave, literally. It was so thick with water that I literally felt like I was drowning.

"I move plenty fast," I wheezed back, glaring, "But it's not my job to move fast anyways, it's yours. It's my job to make sure you don't get killed."

Sending me an eye roll, Black*Star turned away and began for the exit, "A big star like me doesn't die over just anything. You have it _easy._"

Stopping, I stared at him with narrow eyes. "You think I have it easy?"

Black*Star turned to face me, raising an eyebrow as if the very idea of depending on someone else to keep him on his feet was inconceivable. "How hard could being a weapon really be? Hell, I bet I would make a great weapon, even better than you considering what a big guy I am_._"

My temper rose dramatically, steaming practically coming out of my ears. Again we both opposed each other as silent forces, each staring the other down while mentally daring the other to avert their gaze first. Invisible to the naked eye, our souls swelled and clashed, causing our wavelengths to spark together.

"Oh yeah?" I growled, "What kind of weapon would you be? A megaphone?"

The look of shock on Black*Star's face was priceless as he considered my question. Confusion passed through his eyes as he stared at me, not quite seeing me, before suddenly his mouth split open wide. Fearful that he was going to begin shouting, my stomach quaked with nerves as I glanced around. Already we were getting strange looks from passerby, but if the blue-haired ninja began shouting we would have a very different problem on our hands.

Much to my surprise, however, he started laughing. What could only be described as cackling ripped through his abdomen, out his mouth in a full-body display of his merriment that I was, admittedly, a bit worried about. Had he finally completely lost his marbles? Had I driven him insane with my sheer intelligence?

Unlikely, I know, but it could happen.

"Black*Star?" I questioned quietly, "Are you sane?"

Clutching his gut, he took more than a few moments to respond, wiping away the tears in his eyes and straightening up as the last of his giggles subsided. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, finally looking back at me to answer my question. "You'd be surprised by how sane I am. It's just," he grinned, coming towards me and wrapping an affectionate arm around my shoulder, "You really remind me of Maka."

I stopped, my anger dissipating. Staring at him, stunned, I let my meister lead me out of the airport as I walked in a daze. Being compared to one of the best living meisters of our time was a strange thing, yet flattering. There was a part of me that liked to point out that he probably meant my _personality_ reminded him of her, but still. My heart swelled a little bit, my chest puffed out in a show of pride.

Before I knew it, we had gotten a cab and driven to our destination, a small hamlet several hours away. A chill ran through me as I looked through the windows as we drove to the inn we had told the cab driver to drop us off. It was a silent, dusty town. There was a waterway up against the rear of one side of Main Street, and an alligator's eyes watched as we passed. It wasn't the only thing that was watching, I knew. Like a sixth sense, I could distinctly feel the eyes of the kishin watching, assessing us. I clenched my fist on my lap, attempting to keep all that was visible of me through the window calm and relaxed.

"Do you feel it?" I mumbled to Black*Star under my breath, "He's close by."

He grunted and his foot started tapping against the floor rapidly – the only show of his excitement. Despite his boisterous attitude, he was becoming better at being stealthy. At least he didn't go around yelling out his rules all the time like when he'd first arrived. I didn't know how Tsubaki had dealt with him shouting all the time during a fight. It would have driven me half insane!

"Here we are kids," the cab stopped at an old, rundown building. The driver turned towards us, glancing at me and then fixing Black*Star with a stern gaze. "You two keep out of trouble, y'hear? And keep this little lady safe, boy."

Black*Star's only answer was to smirk and nod, ignoring my scoff. Getting out was a quick process, and we waved as he drove away. Our bags by our feet, we turned to our accommodations and I frowned. It was a dismal little town, and the inn was even worse than the rest of it. Broken shutters, cracked porch, chipped-away paint; a door that looked as if it was one termite away from completely falling apart. This, accompanied by the constant buzz of mosquitoes and the lack of several windows, didn't fill me with any good feelings.

"This place is really gone to hell," Black*Star remarked, throwing his bag over his shoulder and grabbing mine with his other hand.

"Ay," I agreed, glancing around.

I could still feel it nearby, making my skin crawl with the wrongness of its soul.

The interior of the inn was no better. It smelled of mold and old fried food. There was a squelching noise that accompanied each step that released a foul odor. My nose wanted to climb off my face and walk away as fast as it could. The only thing that kept me there was the steady hand of the assassin on my shoulder, though I wasn't sure if he was doing so to keep me there, or him.

Standing next to the desk, peering through a door that led to the back room, I tapped on the old-fashioned bell that sat on the decomposing wood. Unlike everything else, the bell was polished and clean, letting out a high trill and settling back to its resting point.

"Hello?"

I jumped, startled, and turned quickly to face the voice. It was an older lady, her wispy white hair, fluffy like cotton candy, drifting around her head. She carried with her a basket of vegetables under her arm and several dead birds clutched in the other hand – by the neck. My stomach turned at the sight of the animal's blood on her hands, a flash of memory going through my mind before I shoved it back into the box that I had kept it locked into for so long. Instead I turned my eyes to her face, scrutinizing the wrinkles that surrounded the small puckered mouth and large blue eyes. She studied me in return: my long wavy blood-red hair, the gray eyes that seemed cold as stone, and the alabaster skin. If she looked close enough she just might see the silvery scars that spider webbed across my abdomen, and the stark black dandelion and bird tattoo that sat on my right hip, hidden by my black vest. It occurred to me that, out of us two partners, Black*Star could possibly be least suspicious-looking.

I mean, who exactly wears a black scarf wrapped around her neck in Florida?

"We're here for rooms," I pitched my voice into soft, low tones that I usually saved for small children and frightened animals, "Are there any available?"

Her suspicious eyes squinted at me again, "How many nights?"

Black*Star and I traded a look, "One night, please."

"We ain't got no rooms," She grunted after a moment of consideration. "I got a couch y'all can fight over, and a floor that's none too clean, but it'll do if y'er desperate."

As we had already planned on being here, and there weren't many options. Plus, night was falling quickly, and I disliked kishin hunting without having somewhere to run to in a pinch.

After she cleaned out our pockets, she sat us down in a back room that was furnished with a questionably stained couch, a T.V. that looked as if it belonged to a whole different time period, and a single table with enough coffee cup rings for me to wonder if it hadn't been attacked by an octopus. There were two windows large enough to fit a person through that I pinned as our entry and exit points while Black*Star followed our innkeeper to get blankets. I poked the couch and, finding it somewhat dry, decided to chance sitting on it.

The sun was setting slowly. When Black*Star returned with an armful of blankets, he pushed me towards the couch and told me to rest, saying he'd wake me up when it was dark. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually my meister had me tucked under the blankets, so enveloped I felt like the filling of a burrito. He nearly sat on me to keep me there but I forced him off, saying there was no way I was sleeping if his fat ass was on top of me the entire time. I rolled to face the back of the couch, trying my best not to breathe through my nose so as to avoid the toxic fumes. A restlessness had settled into my bones, causing my entire self to tremble. I felt this way whenever I was about to face a kishin – whether I was actually worried about facing it or not. The anticipation itself was enough to make me want to do a few hundred laps around the town.

Finally I gave up on trying to sleep and sat up, glaring at the half-sun that was peering over the hill. How inconsiderate of it to continue to stay up after I had been lying here for what felt like hours! Black*Star laughed a bit when I sat up, frustrated. I couldn't help but glower at him from under the blankets. Much like the alligator in the water, but when I surfaced I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. No time had passed since he had attempted to force me to sleep but it didn't matter – the pre-fight jitters were beginning to infect the both of us. Black*Star's eyes were lit brighter than normal. He couldn't seem to sit still.

"Come on, I can't wait anymore!" I growled, kneeling by Black*Star. "Can we go off him yet?"

The blue-haired boy suddenly sprang to action, jumping to his feet, yelling out his trademark 'Yahoo!' before grabbing my hand. My body transformed at his touch, glowing and shifting its shape until I was harder than iron. His hands gripped my handle steadily, showing no hesitation. We leapt out the window, Black*Star hitting the ground and using his momentum to push off and bound into the swamp. I focused on our souls: fine-tuning my wavelength to fit his like a worn t-shirt. Pleasurable shudders ran through my blade as our wavelengths connected, feeling like two good friends once again converging.

Forest passing in a blur, I turned my mind to my own job: sensing the location of the kishin. Though I had never been able to see souls, I had been extremely adept at sensing their presence. Black*Star used this to his advantage, leaving me to find our destination while he traipsed about, breaking every branch in the forest. I directed him silently, giving him tugs to direct him.

Already we were a well-oiled machine, working together. This was true resonance: being one of soul and body, each controlling our separate selves yet delving so deeply into the other that it felt as if I had two sets of eyes. We took in air together, jumped together, sliced through obstacles like they were butter. In my astral form, I kept my eyes locked ahead, feeling out for the kishin.

Then, as soon as we neared it, I felt its soul swell.

"Black*Star!" I warned, urging the assassin to slow down, "Something's changed!"

"Don't worry, Kai!" He gave me a reassuring squeeze, only slightly slowing his pace as he felt my cautiousness flow through our link, "A big star like me isn't going to lose to a little guy like him!"

A growl shuddered through our surroundings, sounding much larger than a little dwarf. It was then I could distinctly sense no one, but _two _kishin, and the realization ran through me along with adrenaline: we were going to have much more trouble with this mission than we thought. When we came to a clearing they were there, waiting for us, the smaller one monkey-like and small while the large one was a grotesque graphing of several animals. The head of an alligator with a gaping mouth, attached to a body of a heron. The whole thing had a snake for a tail, one of the many poisonous vipers that whispered through the undergrowth.

"Black*Star, I-"

"Yahoo!"

I felt the wind whistle along my surface. "Shit…"


	8. Chapter 7: Maka

(Author's Note: This was supposed to be up yesterday afternoon but, first, our heater died - which is no fun when its negative degrees outside - and then the internet was being stupid! Eventually I gave up... but here it is!)

Chapter Seven: Can Maka Crack the Whip?

Five months, three weeks, seven days.

At exactly the moment that Black*Star and Kai were facing off with a kishin in Florida – though Maka had no idea – she was crossing off yet another square on her calendar. It was one of the cheap ones you can buy in any supermarket with some sort of European boy band staring at her from each picture. She didn't know who they were, but Rosario hadn't really cared when he'd bought it for her, just acted as if her disdain for the 'gift' wasn't deserved.

After all, Maka knew he'd gotten it to apologize for being an ass. Unfortunately, unlike when Soul tried to apologize to her, Rosario hadn't even begun to try to find out an appropriate way to make it up to her and went with the easiest way he thought possible: buying things. She'd just about had it with the Spanish weapon and his perversion, his too-thick charm that practically made her sick. Just resonating with him had made her soul feel slimy. Not to mention, he often stayed out too late and brought slutty, drunk girls to their apartment. On those nights Maka made sure to go out and take extra-long walks, sucking up her anger and frustration for the sake of gaining more strength.

It was on one of these nights Maka had met Brie.

The French girl had been one of the many girls Rosario had brought back to their apartment to have his way with. Something about the young female had Maka immediately feel protective, so she did what was natural to her and confronted Rosario. The electrified whip had glared at her, cussing at her silently with his neon blue eyes, and said that _his _business was _his _business, and if she wanted to have a say in his business, she'd meet him in the bedroom.

Of course, Maka never was one to put up with someone's shit for long.

This is why, four months and three days after the Japanese meister's departure from her beloved weapon, she found herself switching weapons for the second time. Brie, much to Maka's surprise, was a student at the DWMAE, a scythe. The two girls bonded quickly, falling into their friendship as if they'd know each other for years. Though Brie was shy, the petite French girl had a penchant for alcohol that surprised Maka. She didn't look it, only making it to Maka's chin when standing tall, but she could drink with the best of them. Her perfect blond ringlets contrasted sharply with her reputation.

So, Maka had moved from Rosario to Brie – from pervy ass-hat to innocent drunkard.

"It's time for school!" Maka shouted sharply, having finished her private morning routine and beginning with breakfast. Much like Soul, Brie was particularly difficult to wake up. It wasn't until Maka went into her roommate's room and shook her awake that her brown eyes opened, slightly red because of her late night the night before. She winced, rolling away from Maka and groaning. Hungover.

"Maka!" Brie whined, reaching towards her nightstand and patting around for her glasses. "Please shut the light off!"

The ash-blond just shook her head and put two Advil and a glass of water in her weapon's hands.

"Not today, Brie." Maka rolled her eyes as she grabbed the pillow her friend had been trying to cover herself with. "It's Thursday, remember?"

"Shopping!" Brie squealed, jumping out of bed and downing the Advil and water like a shot. The girl, much to Maka's amusement, was ready in about ten minutes flat afterwards, and the two began their trek to school. Brie's apartment was a tad farther away from the DWMAE than Rosario's had been, but Maka would have traded anything to get away from the Spanish weapon. A little farther walk was an easy choice over restraining herself from murder on a daily basis.

As they walked Brie gushed on and on about what kind of dress she was looking for. Yesterday they had been given an envelope by one of their professors that held an invitation to the Exchange Program ball in the Land of Mirrors – Lord Death's own domain – in the Shinigami's own mansion! After seeing Death the Kid's manor in Japan Maka knew that his father's must be something grand. After all, Kid had some rather expensive tastes, and while Maka wasn't often impressed by expensive things, there was definitely something about the young Death god's home that appealed to her.

She frowned as she wondered how Kid was doing with his new weapons, and whether or not he would make an appearance at the ball. Team Maka had all been too busy to talk all together on the mirrors lately so she had no way of knowing whether or not he was. In fact, she wondered whether or not _any _of them would be coming. Black*Star, in America, seemed to be dragging his weapon around on missions 24/7 – the poor girl – while each of her other friends were throwing themselves into their own missions and studies. Tsubaki, in Africa, had told Maka that she absolutely loved her new meister. He was a drastic change from Black*Star, she'd said, though she did miss the blue-haired assassin terribly. How couldn't she? The bond between weapon and meister was strong in each of their group.

Maka's hand clenched as her mind turned to her own weapon. Soul was stuck in Russia, and it seemed the DWMAR was quite the change for him. For one, it was in an old abandoned prison. They didn't get to choose their own missions there, nor did they get to leave without permission. Soul's free spirit was practically suffocating – the only thing that made it better was his fabulous meister and he and Maka's weekly calls. It wasn't as if he was being mistreated, but she knew him like he was a part of her and could see that he was definetly suffering.

She hoped he would be allowed to leave so she could see him this weekend.

"Maka," a voice pierced the meister's thoughts, "if you keep frowning like that you're going to get wrinkles!"

Green eyes blinked for a moment, her feet pausing as she was brought back to reality. She focused on Brie for a moment, rooting herself in the present before smiling with a closed mouth.

Brie, for her part, was wiser than Maka gave her credit for. The corners of her mouth turned up as she raised an eyebrow, "Thinking about Soul again?"

Blushing, Maka rubbed the back of her neck with one gloved hand and avoided the weapon's probing eyes, shaking her head and mumbling some curses under her breath. This was as much a verification as any words would have been. Brie snickered and nudged her friend with her shoulder, starting to walk with her towards the castle that served as the DWMAE. It was on the outskirts of the opposite end of town, taking nearly half an hour to get there when walking. The two girls enjoyed the rest of the early morning, a spring in each of their steps as they cheerfully discussed their after-school plans. Both of them had decided to take some time and buy a dress for the ball so they could each look their best.

"It looks like it might rain today," Maka remarked with a bit of worry, wondering how they would get their dresses home if it the sky decided to give the earth a shower today.

Brie, also turning her eyes to the clouds, hummed. "We should have brought our umbrellas."

At that moment, as they rounded the last bend and the DWMAE came into sight the rain began to pour with a passion. Within seconds the two were soaked. They took off at a sprint, splashing through the mud and giggling as they ran to the old castle and hurried through the doors, dripping water as they pushed open the heavy wooden doors. Though the outside of the castle gave off the impression that it was abandoned, the inside was warm, inviting, and surprisingly well furnished. Maka stopped to catch her breath in the entryway, still laughing at her weapon began trying to shake herself off like a dog in an attempt to get dry.

One of the many mechanical maids that serviced the DWMAE wheeled herself over and pushed warm towels towards the two girls, another coming with a tray of hot chocolate. This was one of the many perks the DWMAE had: their headmaster was a genius inventor. It was rumored he was descended from Eibon himself, but Maka doubted it. She had, after all, had heard too much about the ancient wizard to think that he would have ever in his entire lifetime had children between trying to achieve immortality and building all his magic tools. Then, after Kid had told the rest of Team Maka about actually _meeting _Eibon, she was nearly 100% sure that her new headmaster was just a very smart meister.

And that he was.

The DWMAE was furnished with some of the most technologically advanced robots Maka had ever seen and ever would see – ranging from the maids to the teachers. Many didn't even appear to be made of metal. The blond meister had a difficult time deciding whether or not she found it creepy or comforting that most of her professors charged their batteries at night instead of slept, so she tried not to think too much about it. Soul probably would have thought it was cool, she thought.

"We won't be late for class if we hurry!" Maka wrapped her towel around her shoulders and began trotting down the stone hall with Brie's curls bouncing close behind her. Their first period of the day was a sort of Physical Education class, but it was more about the two girls making sure their soul resonance was a strong as it could be. Maka and Brie hadn't yet attempted any of Maka and Soul's special techniques, but their goal had been to start this morning.

Luckily the pair barely made it into their classroom – an old ballroom – before the church bell that was mounted atop the castle began ringing to signal the beginning of classes. The two snickered together, finishing drying off and handing off their towels to a nearby mechmaid. Their professor barely paid them any attention, instead talking with Rosario and his new meister.

Maka glared across the room at the duo. Seeing them was her least favorite part of the entire class, especially when his new vixen of a meister seemed to think Maka was some sort of trash. The girl was tall, azure eyes with enviously long eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she blinked. Black hair, tall, curvy, the typical mean-girl that Maka disliked just as much as she did the weapon she now was wielding. Not only was she more offensive than Black*Star, but her boobs made Maka feel self-conscious about her flat chest – though she'd never admit it.

Brie cleared her throat next to her, taking her glasses off of her face and folding them before placing them in the front pocket of her shirt. A hand was offered and Maka took it, feeling the shape of her friend change more than seeing it. Just like Soul, Brie was a scythe. Unlike Soul, however, Brie's handle was engraved gold that had pale pink gems as flower petals set into grooves, coupled with green glass that filled other grooves, giving her the appearance of a vine-covered golden staff. Her blade was crystal clear, but sharp and strong. She was much flashier than Maka was used to, but she rather liked the way her friend flashed as she sliced through the air.

"Alright, let's go soul resonance!" Maka huffed, getting into the movement and building up her energy. The second their souls began resonating she felt the sparks, attempting to shape her wavelength to Brie's like Professor Stein had tried teaching her before she'd left Japan. It worked, their resonance building, their souls growing larger and kicking up a ring of dust around them.

Maka held her ground, pulling Brie back over her shoulder with gritted teeth. A hum began deep within the blade, Brie beginning to sing a little bit as she kept up with the building power. Maka let out a shout, feeling the resonance reach its peak and Brie beginning to change. Everything was trembling, sweat wetting Maka's neck as she struggled to keep her soul fitted to her weapon's own.

_Now_, Maka's instinct urged her, _release Witch Hunter._

Maka held, straining for that next level with all her might.

With a shout, Brie grew hot in her hands as their resonance fell to pieces. Witch Hunter exploded into a million shards of pearly glass, hurling Maka through the air and into one of the stone walls. Brie, now back to her human state, kneeled on the ground, pale. Pain spread through Maka's shoulder and she winced as she stood, rolling her shoulder to work out the kinks. Her face felt hot as she saw the rest of the class all staring, having stopped their activities to watch. With her chin held high she walked back over to Brie, kneeling beside the heaving girl. "It was my fault, I held it too long," Maka gulped, a feeling like dread mixing with her frustration and causing her own stomach to churn with acid.

Brie stared up at her, her freckles seeming stark against the paleness of her skin. "Are you kidding? That was amazing!" Her eyed danced with excitement as she unsteadily stood, wobbling until Maka took her arm and supported her. "It's my fault for not being strong enough, if anything!" Brie sniffed embarrassedly, flushing as she looked at her feet.

"Well, personally, I think you're both at fault. Techniques like that are for _strong _meisters and weapons."

Maka's blood ran hot, she turned to look at Rosario and Eliza. The two had walked near to enjoy the spectacle, and Eliza was clearly enjoying the embarrassment. Her ruby-red lips smirked at the two and Maka stood a bit straighter, stepping slightly in front of her weapon friend. Despite being a self-confidant party girl, Brie was extremely sensitive to what other people thought and said. The meister narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want?"

Rosario answered this time, looking too much like a snake for Maka's liking. "Just to give the new partners some tips. You've only been together for what, three months? And you're already trying techniques such as that?" His grin grew, teeth seeming sharp in the light, "You haven't even gone on a mission yet and everyone knows you're both failures."

Blood boiling, Maka was about to take a step forward and tell Rosario exactly where he could shove his advice when a hand on her arm held her back. She half turned, surprised to see the determination in the short French teenager's eyes as she glared at her adversaries. Brie held out a hand to Maka, saying one thing telepathically to her meister when she transformed back into a scythe. "_Let's do this."_

It was Maka's turn to smirk as she returned her gaze to Eliza and Rosario, now holding her scythe lightly in her hands. "If you think we're such failures, why don't you duel us? It's not like you have anything to lose."

Eliza's eyes widened, but she took Rosario's hand without question as he transformed his own form. He was now a coiled whip, blue sparks traveling up the length of his braided rope. The two meisters backed up and faced off, all the other students backing up and the professor coming to the front of the group to supervise.

"We're done with your shit, Eliza." An image of Brie glared out from the blade, black and white.

Their foe smiled a too-sweet smile, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the determined look in Maka's eyes as she swung Brie around and stood in her fighting position, scythe blade skimming just a few inches above the stone floor. Rosario crackled, Eliza releasing the coil and flicking him out to his full length. The two meisters met eyes, tension building, before suddenly they were clashing.

Immediately everyone in the room, including the professor, took a large step backwards. Sparks flew as Eliza attempted to keep Maka at a distance, her fighting style more like ballet than attacking. A fierceness had settled on her face, a snarl making her perfect lips pucker. Those who knew enough saw through her façade. Eliza was on the defensive, cracking Rosario and doing her best to keep Maka and Brie at a distance. While the whip was useful at a distance, the scythe was deadly at close distances. Brie deflected another slash and came in close, chopping off a length of Eliza's hair as the meister barely was able to duck out of the way. The whip-wielder squealed, throwing her hands up as, suddenly, the scythe was pressed to the side of her neck.

Maka stood there, her face a mask of resolve. Eliza trembled before her, lower lip jutting out, eyes burning with what could only be described as fury. "You're done, Eliza." Our hero said, hefting Brie over her shoulder. "You both are."

Just as Maka turned her back, Eliza shrieked and brought Rosario up and cracked him, whipping the rope at Maka. Sensing the attack rather than seeing it, Maka twisted her arm without turning and brought Brie parallel to her back, then flicked her wrist. The result was a swipe that was so forceful Rosario was blown back into his human shape, tumbling several feet towards Eliza's feet.

"Done." Maka said again, green eyes flashing as she turned her head.

Eliza seethed, Rosario groaned, and the rest of the class cheered.

The rest of the day passed with much less excitement as the partners went from class to class, waiting for the day to end. Every time they exited a classroom there was a crowd of people waiting to congratulate them on the duel, each glad that Rosario and Eliza had been put in their place. As Maka listened, she learned that the two had been off-and-on partners since Eliza had come to the DWMAE. Suspicion began to crawl through her as small pieces started coming together: something was definetly fishy about her being paired with Rosario if he had a present meister. It twisted with her questions about the entire Exchange Program, her doubts, her confusion at the ball. Why would Lord Death have a ball if he wanted the new pairs of partners to resonate efficiently? She knew that seeing Soul would make her wavelength match with his again automatically.

Finally the end of the day came, signaling the beginning of what Brie had been gushing about all day: shopping. They walked into town, Brie practically bunny-hopping the entire way to the dress shop in her excitement. Maka had a bit more on her mind than looking her best, still trying to fit the Exchange Program into her head and make sense of it. Lord Death was always doing strange things, she suppose. He was a pretty strange guy, even for a Shinigami. So what if she couldn't make sense of his plans, right? There had to be some reasoning behind what looked to be illogical.

Dress shopping went by equally quickly, Maka coming away with a purple dress with a sweetheart neckline, shimmery and practically embodying midnight. Brie, of course, got a pale blue floor-length number that showcased her petite curves and shimmered as she walked. Both girls walked away feeling confident that they would look their best this weekend, though Maka was still mainly preoccupied with what she was _unsure_ about.

Still, she was left to consider: what was Lord Death playing at?


	9. Chapter 8: Tsubaki

(Author's Note: Apologies for the late update. I have no idea why, but Tsubaki really isn't a character that's easy for me to write in. I didn't want to not write this chapter, but at the same time I kind of avoided it... also, basketball has been a total badword and has eaten all my time. This means less writing, but I'll do my best to update weekly! I'm thinking every Thursday or Friday? Sorry for the short chappie, again, but please enjoy!)

Chapter Eight: Tsubaki's Still Such a Silent Flower

Rising with the sun, lying with the sun. Tsubaki's days felt like they had grown considerably longer since she had come to Africa, though it wasn't so much that they had grown longer than she had begun learning to spend it wiser. It wasn't the only thing that had grown, however. The small bits of fat that had given Tsubaki her round appearance had slimmed away, leaving her with deadly muscles and thinner curves. Her skin, which had always been stuck at a milk-white, had tanned to a slightly darker brown through a series of painful sunburns. Snow had begun with the basics of fighting kishin when she had arrived, working on their interaction as weapon and meister until they could communicate with only a look. The white-haired African was a man of few words, making Tsubaki often feel as if _she _was the one that spoke too much.

Beyond his quiet nature, Tsubaki felt very comfortable talking to Snow. He didn't make her feel quiet, or like a simple partner. Though Tsubaki and Black*Star's relationship had always been deep, she'd often felt as if the assassin had often forgotten that she was a person, with her own wants and needs and wishes, in his rush to become stronger. When it came down to it, Tsubaki knew that her meister did indeed care about her, but… if she admitted it to herself, Black*Star had never cared about her in quite the same way as she had him. It was one of the reasons she had decided to apply for the exchange program: a bit of space from Black*Star had sounded like the one thing she needed to get rid of her surplus of affection for the boy. So far, it did prove effective. She was far more worried about things such as hunting the next Wildabeast – a common kishin transformation on the plains – or how she was get better grades.

School was a strange experience. It was much more lax than school in Japan, the hours being unclear and flexible. For the first few weeks Tsubaki hadn't been able to understand how everyone knew when to come to class, until, one day, Tsubaki had notice a peculiar charm hanging from a rope around Snow's waist. It was a small ruby, barely the size of a dime,that at odd times turned dark blue. When she had asked him about it he had explained that it was the gift to the DWMAAf from one of the surrounding tribe's witch. It allowed the teachers to contact the entire student body when classes were being called, even working at long distances. Snow acquired one for her soon after she had asked, and she had braided her own belt and tied it around her own waist.

Her bare feet were coated with dirt and, as she inspected them, she realized that Liz and Patty would die if they saw all their hard work on her toenails revert back to their untended state. She had begun wearing what was normal of most teenage African girls, plus a chest wrapping because she still had her Japanese sense of modesty. Gone were her fur boots, her long slit dress. She now wore the cloth that was typical around campus, having originally to bargain for it at the camp store. The only thing that really made her seem out of place anymore was the fact that she really could never hope to attain the darkness of her new friends' skin.

Tsubaki sighed, frowning slightly as she sat out the heat of the day in the hut that she shared with her new meister. At first she had been confused, but it seemed that most pairs shared a hut between them despite their gender. After a while she had grown accustomed to seeing his face in the morning, taking shifts bathing and changing, and saying goodnight every night. She blushed to think of the number of meisters and weapons that were more than just fighting partners, many of them dating and apparently going on to marry. Thankfully Snow wasn't the type to take advantage of such situations.

Just then, the meister she was thinking of ducked under the hide that they used as a door and let out a small sigh as the cooler air cooled him off. His white hair – one of the many things that set him apart from the other students – was full of dust. Tsubaki guessed he had been out hunting, an act that all meisters were tasked with. He never used her on animals, saying that one intelligent being was enough and that it was disrespectful to use her for such purposes. The Japanese weapon had become accustomed to occupying her own time while her meister was out. As a weapon – and as a girl – she had many jobs of her own. Tomorrow night was her night to cook the food, and this weekend she would take part in doing much of the laundry. Unlike when she was living with Black*Star, however, Tsubaki didn't really mind doing the household chores. Most of the other girls all did it while she did, giving them the ability to gossip and form bonds. Snow wasn't pushy either, never once forcing the work on her.

"Good afternoon," Tsubaki greeted, smiling as her meister settled onto his bed and cast his arm over his face, his skin also coated with the dirt that dulled his hair. "Did you enjoy your hunt?"

"It was hot," Snow complained with a sigh, "I shall never get used to the heat, even after living here all my life. I love the way we live here, but," the white-haired boy lifted his arm, peering at her, "I always wonder why we could not make it a little cooler."

She giggled slightly, nodding before returning her attention to the book she'd been reading. Snow had fetched it for her the last time he had driven into town, a trip he made monthly as he was the only student legal to drive currently. It was a romance novel set in an American town about vampires and werewolves and such. Tsubaki didn't usually read such things – who had time for reading with a meister like Black*Star? – but she found herself at least enjoying the escape. Her mind now strayed, though, to the envelope that rested beside her. A professor had stopped her after class and told her to open it when her meister returned, not to show anyone, and to read through it carefully.

"Snow?" She inquired of the dark-skinned boy. In response he lifted his arm so he could look at her, raising a single white eyebrow. "The professor gave me a packet today after class and said I had to open it with you. Would you like to do that now?"

He simply grunted, rolled to his feet, and padded over to kneel by her bedside as she delicately tore open the envelope. The paper was the thick, formal kind that was heavier than paper had right to be. It was a moment before the actual letter slid into Tsubaki's palms as she attempted to grasp it between her fingers. Flowing script, carefully written, spelled out what the expensive stationary was all about: _The First Annual Exchange Program Ball._

_ Meisters and Weapons,_

_ Lord Death is proud to announce that you have been invited to the first-ever Exchange Program exactly six months and one day from the beginning of the Exchange Program. On that day, please remain near a full-length mirror. It will be a black tie affair so please show up in as formal clothing as possible. Shoes are required._

_ We will await your arrival._

Tsubaki hummed, taking the information in. Tomorrow, it seemed, was going to be an unproductive day if she had to be around a full-length mirror the entire time. Plus, she realized that she had no formal dresses. The weapon bit her lip with a stressed expression on her face, worrying about how she was going to find a dress on such short notice. It wasn't as if she could just walk to the nearest store! A small groan, almost a whine, escaped her throat as she glumly thought about missing her chance to see her friends because she couldn't get a dress. Of all the things!

"You do not have a dress, do you?" Snow asked, amused. Tsubaki watched the corners of his mouth turn up slightly as he asked, the hint of a smile showing how amusing he actually found her reaction to her lack of formal wear to be. When she nodded, he stood and crossed the room, going to his clothes trunk and opening it. She stared with open-mouthed confusion as he dug deeper into the crate, nearly up to his hips. Just as she was beginning to worry that he would never emerge he began backing out, his head appearing at first, then his hands. In his right hand he held part of a cloth. He stood, shaking out the dress as he did so, revealing a floor-length dress made of batik cloth. It was black, but a pattern of white dots that reminded her of stars covered the bodice and flowed through the skirts. One arm was covered in a flowing sleeve, the other sleeveless with a slit down the leg. The skirts themselves flowed, but it seemed the top would be slightly tighter, showcasing her substantial chest. S

The dress was perfect, she decided, and she barely could contain her emotions.

Snow waited for her to say something as she held her hand to her mouth, her dark eyes staring at him with emotions he never could quite decipher. He was terrible with feelings, really. Such a sweet weapon should not have a meister such as he, who could barely even figure out his own problems. Did she like the dress, he wondered? Tsubaki was awfully quiet, as usual, and he couldn't help but feel his skin begin to heat and prickle. He was lucky he was dark.

When Tsubaki finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. "It's beautiful.

"It was my mother's," Snow smiled slightly, both at her and the dress as he handed it to her. "She would be glad to see such a beautiful woman wearing it after she did."

There was a slightly awkward moment that followed that statement, neither of them quite ready to accept what had just been said nor ready to completely deny it. Instead, Snow turned on his heel and began digging for his own formal wear. He had a tux somewhere, but truly he was giving his Japanese companion a moment. She did not have the benefit of his darkness and her cheeks were quite bright, even in the shadow of their hut – which suddenly felt a tad too small.

"Thank you very much, Snow." Tsubaki said softly, stroking the fabric in wonderment.

"Always."


	10. Chapter 9: Death the Kid

Chapter Nine: Live to Snoop Another Day

Things had been crazy at the DWMA since the Exchange Program had begun. Out of all the students who had been swapped around, it seemed that the Japanese branch had done the most sending of students, and the least gaining of students. Many of the meister and weapon partners that Kid had competed against since his arrival at school had been split up, sent to different places around the world. Team Maka had been talking less and less as the time went on and now Kid only heard regularly from Liz and Patty. The two girls were having a fantastic time in Australia, though their meister suspected it had more to do with the two boys who were wielding them than the scenery.

As for Kid, the last six months – why six? Why couldn't it have been eight? – had been bearable at least. Nikolai and Bastian, the brother weapons, were twins, _identical _twins. For once in his life, Kid found himself being completely symmetrical - excluding the lines in his hair - as he fought with his two identical spiked flails. They did take quite a bit more energy to swing around, but he found himself enjoying the dark satisfaction he got from smashing things. The three boys had since adapted to each other's fighting styles. Out of the program, Lord Death had informed Kid that the trio had only been behind one other team when it came to soul resonance. His father hadn't told him who it was but Kid suspected Maka – the meister had always been very adaptable.

Currently Kid was facing a fight that not even symmetry could defeat. Sitting at the dinner table with his father across from him, his gold eyes staring into the darkness behind the mask that hid most emotion. The table had a lack of symmetry that bothered Kid, and the lack of symmetry wasn't even the major problem. The problem at the forefront of Kid's mind was the woman sitting next to his father, at his right hand.

Nikolai and Bastian had always evened out the table by sitting on either side of Kid, square in the middle of the table one seat away from him and his father. Now, with this mystery woman, there were three seats empty. Symmetry seemed like a trifle matter when it came to issues such as this. With a single father Kid might have suspected that it would happen someday. With a father like Lord Death stranger things had definetly happened. A concept such a dating, however, Kid could not picture Lord Shinigami ever wooing the magnificent specimen next to him.

So far, Kid didn't care for her. Her laugh was shrill and off-kilter, her words twisting and purred in a way that reminded him of a cat who's just cornered a mouse. Her hair was tied back in a bun, thick tentacle-like groups of hairs sprouting from beneath and wrapping around her skull, making it look as if there was a squid attached up there. If it wasn't her lack of symmetry, though, it was the way she already acted like she owned everything she touched. The second she placed her hand on Kid's shoulder the young Shinigami knew there was something wrong with the woman who called herself Calypso. Whether it be simply that she was a gold-digger after his father's wealth, which had been acquired over the centuries, or that she was after his power. Kid didn't care. He couldn't help but feel unsettled by the sea green eyes and the eggshell white skin that seemed to stretch over her bones as if it didn't fit quite right. As if a she-devil had stolen it and stretched in over herself to masquerade as an angel.

"So Kid, have you made these two boy Death Weapons yet?" Lord Death asked in his cartoon-y, bubbly voice.

"Of course not, father," Kid replied coolly, attempting to keep up appearances as his usual calm and collected self. "There's been too much to do around the DWMA lately. Professor Stein has us doing more dissections than usual."

It wasn't a lie, either. The DWMA's most talented Professor seemed to be digressing again. His eyes were beginning to flare with a bit of his own madness, so much so that the entire academy felt tainted with it. Crona had been gluing himself to Kid's side lately, his nervousness amplified. All the progress the boy had made with Maka seemed to be dissipating with time though Kid had a feeling he would get better as soon as the female meister had returned. The two of them had a particularly strong bond, much like the one between siblings. It was a known fact that Kid had taken over care of the sword meister, gathering him and Ragnarok – as well as their belongings - and letting them stay at Gallows Manor.

Still, Kid couldn't help but feel a bit chilled. The pink-haired boy had been having nightmares, so many that Kid had taken to sitting with him most nights. What he spoke of in his sleep made Kid's skin crawl: whisperings of witches, death, and destruction. Most recently, Crona had even uttered a full sentence. Though it gave away almost nothing, the way that poor little Crona had broken out into a cold sweat, his heart beating loud and hard enough to be heard across the room had Death the Kid taking the night-terror to heart.

Crona had groaned, muttering his usual 'I can't deal with it' phrase, tossing and turning with increased fervor as the claws of whatever dream was infecting him with darkness grew stronger. As he tossed and turned, he finally became still, his eyes flicking back and forth as his jaws unconsciously cut through his lip. _"She's coming."_

Perhaps it wasn't Calypso's fault. It was possible that she had just coincidentally appeared in his life after the chilling sleep-message. Whatever the case, Kid couldn't help but feel somewhat wary of the new woman so soon afterwards. Even if she weren't coming at a time such as this, there was something off about her; Kid was sent on edge just by the way that she looked at his father as if he were her prey.

The way his father was acting wasn't any help either: like a drugged addict. He couldn't seem to get enough of this Calypso – going along with everything she said, inviting her to stay with him in his manor, even having her come with him to the DWMA. What they did all day, nearly always alone, Kid did not want to know. What Kid _did_ know, however, was that something was definetly not right with Calypso.

"So, Kid, are you excited to see Patty and Liz again? I know you've missed them!" Lord Death asked, seeming eager to draw his son into the conversation.

The black-haired boy chew a bite of food slowly, considering the question before answering. "It will be nice to see how my weapons have progressed in the hands of two new meisters. I just hope these two boys have treated them respectfully."

"I'm sure the boys will have minded their manners," Calypso purred with a knowing tone in her voice, green eyes flashing while she smirked. "Though you never know with young men these days, they can be so disrespectful."

Her laugh gave Kid goose bumps and his eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he evaluated the woman's intent. There was nothing outwardly malicious about the way she had spoken, but something wasn't right about her words. He stored it in his mind for later.

"My generation is a bit rough around the edges," He grinned dryly, "But we do have our good points as well."

Calypso inclined her head slightly in agreement, stroking Lord Death's arm while she looked over at Kid cooly. A deep breath, Kid focused on his lungs, breathing his irritation with her possessive attitude out through his nostrils. In his mind's eyes he watch it evaporate from his skin like water from the earth. What did he care if she had romantic relations with his father? Hell, the Shinigami was plenty old enough to be looking for a spouse – it was far past the time that most bachelors began to settle down. Despite what his father might have thought, Kid was actually pleased that he had begun looking for women. Even though he didn't want to move back in Kid had always felt a little guilty for leaving his father all alone in the Land of Mirrors where Lord Death's mansion resided.

"So, Lord Death," Nikolai stepped in, talking delicately around the food that he had stuffed in his cheeks, "Are you excited vor de ball vis veekend?"

"You betcha!" Lord Death exclaimed, reacting ecstatically. "Stein sure came up with a good idea this time!"

Alarm bells went off in Kid's mind and it was getting harder by the second to remain calm as incongruences began arising, things not adding up. "Professor Stein suggested the idea of the ball?"

"Yeah! And of course, Stein knows best!"

Kid couldn't help but notice how Calypso was acting like a cat who'd just eaten a very large and very satisfying bird. His soul perception didn't reveal her to be a witch and it was unlikely that one could get this close to Lord Death, even when using soul protect. Stein, who was usually in charge of Lord Death's security, was crumbling to his own madness though. Was it possible that Calypso was a witch?

"Since when has Professor Stein been the one calling the shots, father?" Death the Kid inquired softly, a thinly veiled accusation on the tip of his tongue. Lord Death paused, his round eyes narrowing at his golden-eyed son as the two Shinigami stared each other down. Nikolai and Bastian, stuck in between the two deities with nowhere to go, attempted to scoot back in their chairs silently so as to clear themselves from the crossfire. If either of them thought it was odd that Calypso only drew herself closer to Lord Death – closer to the line of fire – they didn't comment.

"Professor Stein is one of my best meisters, I value his word over anyone else's." Lord Death replied, his voice serious. "Do not be mistaken, Kid, because I am the one in charge."

Kid made a small noise of affirmation, his mind whirring as things began to separate and attract his attention. There was something very wrong here, something that was just off enough that he could sense it but not tell what it was. Silent as a ghost he stood, sending a brief farewell to his father and his soon-to-be stepmother, beckoning for his weapons to follow him. There was probably just a painting askew in his house that he'd missed. _Had he forgotten to fold the toilet paper?_ As his mind turned to the new issue, a drop of sweat slid down Kid's face and quickened his step. _What if he hadn't folded it into a perfect triangle? He couldn't be defeated by such a simple thing as toilet paper! If he was defeated by a thing like that, what did it make him? Garbage! Asymmetrical garbage!_

He was nearly to his Gallows Mansion when he fell to his knees, groaning softly and muttering to himself as he attempted to work through the moments before he had left the house this morning. His weapons, already used to his OCD breakdowns, each grabbed him underneath the arm and picked him up so that he was dragging between them.

"Vhat is it this time, Kid?" sighed Nikolai.

"Vould it be de toilet paper or de painting?" Bastian asked.

"The toilet paper!" Kid moaned, his gold eyes crossing. "I don't think I folded the toilet paper!"

They walked in silence until they got home, the two weapons having enough sense to take their meister directly into the bathroom so he could check the toilet paper. Next they had to wait for several hours as Death the Kid checked every painting, cupboard, and bed sheet in the house for any sign of asymmetry. As he did so, both of them were left to entertain themselves. Bastian opted to lock himself away in the gym and attempt to bench-press ten times his own body weight – a feat his brother had no doubt he could accomplish seven times over. Nikolai was the elder twin, the more practical twin, the _smarter _twin. Not to say that Bastian was stupid, but he was simple – definetly the brawns of the pair. Nikolai had thought extensively sense meeting Kid, working through his knowledge of OCD disorders, of what he knew of Kid and his past, and he had reached his own assumption.

When the boy with the white stripes returned to the room, assured that everything was as it should have been, Nikolai began to breach the discussion with Kid. After all, the Exchange Program was meant to help each meister and weapon grow, wasn't it? "Kid, have you ever considered vat your OCD may just be a coping mechanism?"

"A coping mechanism?" A pair of gold eyes narrowed as the Shinigami worked through what the spiked flail had said.

"Vor things you are not v'ready to deal vith. A vay for your mind to vocus on other things. Things that do not cause much stress?"

"My OCD often causes more stress than it shields me from." Was his answer, a frown settling onto his face as he settled into his fluffy armchair, sinking rather than sitting.

"Yes," Nikolai said slowly, studying the young meister – his relaxed position, the lazy way his eyes gazed around the room as if he had no cares. How far from the truth that was. "But it is something you can control. Vhere are things vhat you can v'ix, instead of d'em fixing _you_."

As Kid mulled it over, Nikolai started to build a fire – unfortunately, it had to be symmetrical – in the fireplace. They had been out for most of the day, first at school and then at the impromptu dinner party with Lord Death and the almost-stepmother from hell. That lady unnerved the German boy to a level that he did not really understand, nor could he describe. Something about the way her eyes had calculated and categorized him in a matter of seconds, deeming him unfit to pay her attention to. She didn't even have to say it out loud. Her body language _shouted _what she thought out him: worthless; inconsequential.

"It's been a long day," Nikolai turned to see Kid rubbing his forehead softly as he spoke, tension and weariness leaking into his features. One thing that he had learned of the young death god was that he put on formal and proper airs when he was in public, but at home it was a whole other story. The teenage boy was weary of all the mystery and secrecy that had infected his life. Couldn't it, just for once, be a straightforward fight? Wouldn't that just be easier for all parties involved?

The weapon nodded, coming out of his crouch and claiming his own chair. He and Kid often sat like this before bed, mulling over their day and sharing thoughts. The three teenage boys had been bonded by experience, though Bastian tended to be one of the non-emotional walking walls of testosterone – stereotypically – that didn't show much of himself unless it was a strategic move in a fight. Nikolai was much more open with his emotions.

"I agree," he sighed, keep one eye on his meister as he evaluated Kid's mood. The Shinigami seemed more stressed than usual, like something was bugging him. "Is something wrong, Kid?"

Staring into the distance, his finger tapping on his upper lip as he thought, Kid replied. "I don't know, Nikolai. But I intend to find out."


	11. Chapter 10: Kai

(Author's Note: this was supposed to be out yesterday, as a sort of stocking-stuffer from me to you, but I was cut off from my computer so I wasn't able finish it! Anyways, super deep into Kai's mind this time. Next chapter is The Ball: Part One! Author-chan is super excited!)

Chapter Ten: Blood Doesn't Look Good On a Dress

After defeating the kishin – there were two, not just one – and taking their souls we had quickly packed up our things and left town. By some sort of miracle we had been let on a plane back home even with our ripped clothes and matted hair. I had made sure that neither of us had any lingering traces of noticeable blood before we dragged our weary bodies to the ticket counter, each looking forward to a nice long nap on the ride home. The low hum of the plane was like a lullaby to my weary mind. I didn't wake up until Black*Star stirred as the plane landed, both of us turning shades of red as we realized we were curled into each other.

Stumbling into a taxi, my speech slurred as I gave the driver my address, I yawned loudly and tried to clear the sleep from my eyes so I could at least get back home without falling asleep in the nasty cab. Black*Star kept jerking awake as he dozed, the jolt of stopping and accelerating him jostling him from his half-slumber. His eyes drifted open before shutting, drool dripping. I shook him slightly as we arrived home, shuffling like zombies towards the door to our apartment. The day had been long, the fight hard, and I still felt like there was blood dried all over my skin. Fumbling with the keys, struggling to slide into the lock, Black*Star finally had to nudge me away to do it himself. His fingers were much quicker at grasping the concept of unlocking the door.

Inside, finally, we both collapsed on the couch. My meister fell asleep instantly, curling his muscled body into my side like a buff rabbit. The warmth that his skin gave off made goosebumps rise on the side of my arm as the rest of me realized how cold it was inside the house. With a yawn and a regretful sigh, I rose while gently settling Black*Star's head on the couch so he was in the fetal position, padding to the other end of the darkened apartment to turn on the heat. The thermostat was at the end of the hall, a small dial that was hard to spot if you didn't know what you were looking for. My searching hands brushed against the plastic several times before I finally locked my fingers around it. Turning it up was easy, but suddenly my face was flushing with heat.

I had gone from being freezing cold to feeling as if I were standing in the middle of desert in the daytime. Trembling hands pulled tightly at my shirt. I struggled to gain control of myself. A buzzing - like flies - was making my eardrums vibrate. A coppery taste filled my mouth until I realized I was biting down on my tongue so hard it was bleeding. Eyes clenched shut, a quiet keening noise whining from my throat, my breath coming in small breaths in time with my quickly beating heart. Stumbling, I blindly grasped my way towards the bathroom, nearly falling in my haste to get towards the pills that I have had to take for every day for the past five years; the pills that I will have to take for the rest of my life.

Anti-madness pills.

The second that the small black tablet slid down my throat I felt its effects easing into my system, my brain regaining its ability to function normally and my body regaining control over itself. I opened my eyes, watching the radioactive green fade back into my normal color. A shaky breath left my chest looking caved in. Forever my sins would be with me in the attacks of madness that struck suddenly such as that one had, only staved off by the precious pills that I had forgotten to take the night before.

"Damn," I sighed, inspecting the bags underneath my eyes, "I'm a mess."

I rummaged through the bathroom drawers, looking for a hair-tie. I threw my long red hair up in a large bun. Turning the water on, I cupped my hands and splashed my face, ridding myself of the thin coat of sweat I had just acquired. Then, I padded to my room, picking up my schoolbag and spilling its contents onto the bed. Something told me that sleep wasn't going to be coming so easily anymore tonight, my nerves too unsettled to possibly allow me to let sleep take me to a place that was somewhat peaceful. Sorting through my pile of schoolwork, I unearthed the book I was required to be reading for Ms. Roades's class. As I opened it a thick envelope fell out: the envelope from Lord Death!

I hummed slightly as I opened it and slid the letter out. The expensive paper didn't surprise me. From what Black*Star had said about Lord Death, he was a rather eccentric fellow. I skimmed the contents, frowning as I got to the part about formal dress. Did I even have a dress? And why did we have to attend a _ball_? Why couldn't it be an ice cream social or something? Everyone liked ice cream! Even though I disagreed – even though I still questioned the intelligence of the gathering – I got up to glance through my closet and see if there was anything inside. The ball would be tonight so there wasn't much time to shop. Plus, I absolutely abhorred shopping for things such as dresses. There had never been a need for girly things and there still wasn't now…

Digging through my closet, my fingers catching on nothing but jeans, cargo material, and cotton, I was beginning to dread tomorrow. Nothing in my closet was even _halfway_ dressy, and I didn't have any nice skirts either. Everything was either roughed up, camouflage, or completely inappropriate for a ball such as this. Wrinkling my nose, I stuck my head in, holding out one last vestige of hope that maybe I would have something tucked away but… no such luck. With a pouting lower lip, I huffed and threw myself in bed, falling asleep faster than I could close my eyes…

"Kai, wake up!"

My eyes snapped open, my nerves frayed from lack of sleep. Black*Star was hovering over me with one hand on my shoulder, lighting bolts of excitement crackling in his irises. His blue hair was slightly damp and I could smell his bodywash wafting from his skin. Not only that, but he wasn't in his usual ensemble, but in a pair of white basketball shorts and a black wife-beater, his muscles displayed. I touched my upper lip to assure that I hadn't gotten a nosebleed before looking back up to his face, returning my attention to what he was saying.

"I read the letter from Lord Death! I can't wait to go to this party thing! It sounds like a lot of fun! And you can meet Tsubaki and the rest of Team Maka in person! Of course, none of them are big stars like me, but they're alright, ya' know?"

"It's a ball," I corrected absentmindedly, caught in some sort of daze as I sat up. I peered at my childishly excitable meister through a curtain of my hair – it had come out sometime while I was sleeping. _Why is my heart beating so quickly?_

"Are you going to wear that dress that's in my closet?"

I blinked, "What are you talking about?"

Black*Star, instead of speaking, bounced out of my room and quickly came back with a large black garment bag like a puppy bringing back a stick. I had never seen it before and was puzzled by its existence, wondering why such a thing would have been in Black*Star's closet. It occurred to me - as I began unzipping the zipper - that Warren _had _been in that room for quite some time before Black*Star had come to America.

There was nothing to prepare me for what was in that bag. Though I had never been much of a dress girl, the one that the bag had contained was something that actually appealed to my tastes. It was simple, a strapless black corset top with a burgundy bustled skirt that spilled from the bag onto the floor. I was surprised by the fact that I actually quite liked the dress, but that wasn't even the most surprising point. A notecard tumbled to the floor, slightly crumpled up. Automatically I went down to grab it, ignoring Black*Star's curious eyes and reading the note for myself. _Warren._

_Note to self: find a time to give this to Kai. _

Suspicious.

I frowned. Looking back and forth from the dress to the note, I finally tucked the piece of paper under my pillow and pulled the dress towards me and out of Black*Star's masculine hands. Who knows what the god-envious boy could do to a fine thing like that? The fabric of the skirt was silky and slid pleasurably through my fingers. It was by far the nicest thing I had ever touched, which made me quickly and gently set it on the bed beside me. There was more to going to a ball than just having a dress, I knew. I couldn't exactly wear combat boots, now could I? With a sigh and a longing gaze, I latched my hand around Black*Star's forearm and pushed him out of my room so I could get dressed, leaving the beautiful thing lying on my bed.

Several minutes later I too left my room, beckoning for Black*Star to follow me out of the house. My wallet was burning a hole in my pocket as if to point out to me that containing such an amount on my person was just inviting trouble. My red locks were pulled back away from my face in a lazy ponytail, only my asymmetrical bangs hanging free. Black*Star, for his part, was being semi-silent as he walked beside me, enjoying the city streets. It was already a full-swing workday, cars packed in the streets and pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. Usually I was overstimulated and avoided going out during the day but Black*Star's presence left me feeling oddly calm. Maybe it was the anti-madness pill reacting to the chaos.

A group of three girls exited a store and spotted Black*Star: his blue spiked hair, his biceps, and his cocky grin. Immediately they turned to each other like a group of excited hens and fell into step several paces behind us. With my advanced hearing I could make out every single one of their vulgar, giggling phrases as they blatantly inspected my meister's ass and body. I shoved my hands into my pockets, mood hot and fiery, feeling excessively boyish and dull in my cargo short-shorts and half-tee, wishing I had left my baggy sleeveless hoody at home and maybe traded my combat boots for a pair of sandals. I had even left without putting on makeup, a fact that suddenly seemed very important.

As I tittered over my appearance in the windows of stores, Black*Star had begun noticing the following of girls he had amassed. Now the three girls had been joined by countless others, all ranging from age fourteen to eighteen. It was as if they didn't notice the perfectly eligible female beside him. Then again, he had stopped noticing me as well. Now all of his smirks were thrown over his shoulder, his flexing occurring more often and without reason. I became a small, red-haired, insignificant shadow beside him: simmering and stewing as my insecurity was joined by a severe dislike of anyone that was of the male gender. Like the shadow I had become, I spotted a small boutique and slipped inside while Black*Star continued walking down the boardwalk with his followers.

"The way they were acting, he might as well have been famous!" I growled irritably, gazing at my surroundings. It was full of paisley and pink and frills, but it suited my purpose. I made a beeline to the shoe section to attempt to find myself some heels that wouldn't make me look like a little girl trying to dress up in her mother's things. A salesgirl took her sweet time in noticing me, her bubblegum smacking the whole way as she sashayed her petite way over to me.

"Hello, and welcome to Rainbow's Abbey, where you can fill all your beauty needs!" She said in a voice that was nowhere near as sweet the cotton candy pink that covered every surface. "What can I do for you today?"

After deliberating a moment, I decided to ask for the help simply because I knew that she didn't want to offer it. "I need some heels for a party that I'm going to tonight."

"What color is your dress?"

"Black and… burgundy?" I was unsure of what to call the bottom half, but burgundy seemed to fit. The girl twirled on the heel of her flat and disappeared between the aisles of sparkly, strappy, and sometimes furry shoes. I, clueless as to what I should do as I waited, stood silently and glanced around the store aimlessly. Twiddling my thumbs, rocking back and forth, I let a tiny sigh escape my lips as my mind twisted and prodded the enigma that existed inside it – though there were definetly more important things to think about. Why was Black*Star being fawned over such a big deal to me? We were meister and weapon, not boyfriend and girlfriend. Still, though… it seemed as though the answer was obvious, but I was too angry to admit that it might be true. Plus, my feelings for Black*Star had been nothing but negative for so long I still didn't know where I had separated my feelings of hate for something that made my insides feel so warm.

I was so cliché it hurt my eyes and turned my stomach sour.

Finally the girl came back with a pair of lacy heels. She shoved them into my hands, rang me up quicker than I could say _'thank you'_, and nearly shoved me out the door. As quickly as I had gone in I was out, and alone. My meister was missing from my side, somewhere enjoying the attention of several dozen mindless young females while I was left a frumpy, lonesome mess. The mass of strangers was suddenly very, very pressing. I felt weighed down by stress of… well, the stress of being a tomboy who wasn't used to trying to sort out her own feelings. It was strange, because I couldn't do anything about it. There was no kishin to kill, no bully to beat up.

There was nothing but me, the rainclouds, and the way back home.

A solitary figure carrying a box of heeled shoes that I didn't even really want anymore, that I never had wanted, I made my way back home alone. I felt gray in a sea of bright souls, each sliding like velvet against mine. I would have enjoyed the walk usually, despite hating crowds, but now more than ever I hated it. I hated how everything seemed to work out for others when all I seemed to be catching was bad luck. Warren was the last person I had been sure of but now, with all the mirrors breaking every time I tried to contact him, I was more unsure of him than I had ever been. Black*Star had always been a strange case, foolishly inspiring not only deep trust but often an intense dislike as well.

Key in lock, turned key, opened door, slid inside. The movements were mechanical and bored. Feelings had been shoved down, deep inside where I didn't need to inspect or care. I took my shoes to my room, dumped them near my dress, and the collapsed on my bed to stare at the ceiling. There was a crack directly over my bed that I hadn't noticed before. A waterstain had browned the white near one corner. The windowpane behind my nightstand was dirty and had spiderwebs drifting around it. Since when had this place become so neglected? Sure, Black*Star and I had been out on a lot of missions lately. I couldn't remember the last time I had really cleaned the place – Warren had taken care of the housework when he and I had lived together.

The contrast was sudden and stark in my mind. A time before and a time after. I couldn't tell which I liked better. My time with Warren had been sure. The lines between us had been firm and dark, easy to spot and easy to leave uncrossed. With Black*Star I teetered between two things: wanting to protect him as a weapon should and wanting to beat him senseless.

"What the hell, Kai!"

The noise was surprised me so much that I fell off the bed, popping up instantly to meet the eyes of a very angry meister. "I turned around and you weren't there! Anything bastard coulda' walked right up to you and you woulda' been defenseless! The city isn't safe enough to walk around alone!"

Oh, the irony.

"Well," I started out, my eyes narrowed and my tone sarcastic, "I was getting sick to my stomach, watching you entertain your fangirls. I'm sure they loved the show, though, so A+ for you!"

Unable to deny it, Black*Star blushed. "So what if I got a little attention? It's more than you ever give me!"

We were yelling now, our posture threatening. "What's that supposed to mean? I practically wait on you hand and foot while you run around bragging about how you're going to defeat god someday, and 'ooh, look at my muscles!' If anything, it's _you_ who doesn't give a shit about _me_, jackass!"

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know!"

"Damn it Kai, you can be so stupid!"

"I'm the stupid one? Pull your head outta' your ass, Black*Star: you're the one with delusions about being a big star and defeating gods when all you are is an arrogant idiot who thinks his balls are bigger than everyone else's."

Time seemed to freeze as Black*Star took a step back, his usual arrogance and confidence replaced by hurt and fury. He swallowed, once, twice, his Adam's apple bobbing as he furiously attempted to clear his throat. I watched as his fists tightened, his jaw clenching in response to the anger swirling in his starry eyes. I ached for him to leap at me with his fists swinging so I could release some of the anger and frustration that I had been holing up inside for so long on someone other than myself. We both faced off, tense and coiled like two cats readying to launch themselves at the other's throats, when he just shook his head, surprising me.

"If I'm the arrogant idiot, you're the clueless bitch. We leave in a few hours. I'm not going to screw up my chance to see Tsubaki just because you're acting like a baby."

Then he turned and left me with my restless and angry energy, left me with my shame and sorrow, and shut his door on my maelstrom of madness.


	12. Chapter 11: Kai, Team Maka

(Author's Note: Being sick SUCKS. But on to more important things, such as this chapter... I know that I don't write much with Liz and Patty but it's because they're actually going to have their own mini-series that I'm currently planning title Liz and Patty's Misadventures Down Under. Review, favorite, and have fun!)

Chapter Eleven: Time to Depart for the Ball!

For a long time I just sat there, unable to decide whether laughing or crying was what I wanted. While part of me was glad he was gone – less distraction that way – the majority wanted to run after him and beat on his door until he opened it. What I would do after that? I was still unsure. All I knew was that something about that closed door felt very, very wrong.

"You've done it now, Kai." My fingers laced together, slightly wet from the few drops I had allowed to be released from my eyes.

Strengthening my resolve, I got to my feet and glanced down at the dress that lay on my bed, half-forgotten in my rage. It seemed a shame to wear it now that my escort was pissed as hell at me, but… there were no other options. Plus, Warren should be at the ball and I would hate to disappoint my _true _meister.

Everything in my head was so confusing, a testament to why I was still suspicious of the Exchange Program's function. Why would you split up some of the most effective weapon/meister pairs? Sure, it could be argued that putting them with different partners would strengthen them. Hell, it could probably argued that it would weaken some as well! And who's to say the two can even resonate? I tapped my chin, keeping my eyes from turning back to Black*Star's door, and tried to work it through in my head. I knew I probably wasn't as cunning as Lord Death, but there had to be a _simple _explanation, right? What other reason would there be for splitting up already well-made teams and send them to other branches?

I sighed, already tired of thinking. I was worn from the emotional stress. It wasn't like I was part of Team Maka or anything; my sleuthing would amount to nothing. In fact, if I were being honest, I wasn't all that special as a weapon either. There were countless others similar in style to I, and they didn't have the… issues that I had. They weren't infected by madness like I was. They were _safe _to resonate with for prolonged periods of time, _without_ pills. Closing my eyes, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyelids, I wasted some time by feeling sorry for myself. In all seriousness I was rather useless. Disagreeable. Angry. A loner. I didn't know what I was doing, talking to people and pretending I could ever be normal. It was laughable.

"Moping won't do any good, Kai." I whispered to myself, taking the dress in my hands. I held it up to my body and looked at myself in the mirror. It worked well with my hair, surprisingly. The burgundy was just enough red that it didn't look bad at all, but actually rather good. I placed it back on the bed and jumped in the shower to begin my preparations. After a quick scrub and shave, a thorough soaping of my hair, I ran back out and began with drying my hair. Next came makeup, though I kept it simple and dark. Thick black eyeliner lined my eyes, making the gray look like silver. A pale, shimmery lipgloss to give my lips a bit of shine. I skipped foundation because other than a few freckles, my skin was flawless.

As an afterthought, I grabbed my vial of anti-madness pills and took them back into my room, stuffing them into a backpack with a change of clothes and several other necessities. Knowing Black*Star, he might want to skip coming straight home and want to go right out on a mission. It was better to be over-prepared than have not prepared at all. A gut instinct told me that it was the right choice to bring the bag with me to the ball, no matter how tacky it might look to anyone who bothered to give me a second glance.

Finally came the dress. I glanced at the clock, amazed that nearly an hour and a half had already passed. Though I was still far from in the mood for a party there was no denying that even going through the motions of being excited was bringing me a bit of happiness. Not much, but enough to make me feel a bit lighter than lead.

The dress fit me perfectly, following the curves that I often hid under baggy clothing. Exposed, the skin of my shoulders looked to be like porcelain. If I wasn't feeling so dark I might have admired myself, but currently I barely spared myself a passing glance before slipping on my heels and going to set up a mirror for our departure. It was the same one, I realized, that Black*Star had used the first night to call the rest of Team Maka. The glass had somehow remained intact – many of the mirrors I had owned had fallen prey to whatever was causing them to break whenever I tried to call Warren. I set it up this time so Black*Star and I could easily walk through it.

There I stood, my hands folded together in front of me. My wild red waves were untamed and allowed to go free, my red asymmetrical bangs pulled into a side-braid that came around my head like a crown. Gray eyes stared at me, always sparkling with an amusement I didn't often feel; they practically belonged to someone else.

"Are you ready?"

The way Black*Star asked, it seemed more like something someone would say before going into battle than going to a ball. He looked quite handsome, though he had ditched his suit jacket somewhere. The sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled up past his elbows, his black vest buttoned up. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as if he were uncomfortable but he met my eyes with a steady, unwavering stare. This side of Black*Star, the serious and mature-acting one, was a side that I wasn't sure that I liked. I missed his lighthearted ways, even if he often made me irreversibly angry. He wasn't the same if he wasn't bouncing off of the walls.

I wondered if I had messed everything up.

I wondered if it wasn't a bad thing, for him, that I had.

I nodded sharply, watching him carefully as he came to stand next to me and offered his arm.

I took it.

* * *

Maka Albarn looked over herself once more in the mirror. The dress she had chosen, after hours of shopping, looked pretty good if she said so herself. Brie had spent an enormous amount of time doing her hair and makeup. Her ash-blonde locks lay in perfect ringlets around her face which had a softening effect that even worked on her piercing green eyes. The makeup – by Maka's firm request – was light, and with natural colors, but anyone who knew her would be able to tell a slight difference. Maka looked in the mirror… and saw a girl who looked a lot like her mom. It made her happy to think that wherever she was, a piece of her was still here.

Brie, having finished her own styling needs in a fourth the time she had taken to do her meister's, was wriggling into her dress. Maka watched in mild amusement as the petite French girl's dress got caught on her hips. There was a small moment where she wondered if the small girl was going to fall over, but fortunately she stayed upright. Pouting, Brie turned towards her friend and silently pleaded for help, which Maka quickly provided.

"That's better! For a second my poor posterior couldn't breathe!" Brie sighed contentedly, now freed.

Maka giggled as her friend collapsed on her bed, faking death. "It couldn't have been that bad! You're so small, even compared to me!"

"Hey, who's calling who small, Pancake?" Brie teased, using her nickname for Maka. "But anyways, we have more important things to talk about!" The blonde girl sat up excitedly, "Are you ready to see Soul?"

Maka blushed a deep red, a denial on the tip of her tongue before her brain even processed quite what was going on. Our hero's feelings for her weapon had grown oddly stronger while they were apart. At times when they were talking on the mirror Maka almost wondered if maybe Soul felt the same way, but it almost felt _wrong_ to think of him like that. A bit like dating a fourth cousin, twice removed: no matter how distantly, they were still family! And she didn't even want to think about what would happen if things went sour. Their entire partnership could be ruined over a stupid little lover's squabble.

Again the meister felt her cheeks color. _Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose._

"I'm always ready to see Soul, he's my weapon!" Maka answered smoothly, avoiding Brie's eyes and suddenly becoming very interested in the bedspread. It just wasn't logical to try that with Soul, though Maka couldn't deny that she cared about him a lot. They'd been through so much together: Medusa, Arachne, and Asura. Without him Maka didn't know if she would have ever had the strength to keep fighting the kishin.

Brie scoffed, "You know what I'm talking about. And you're not dodging the subject that easily, miss! I see the way you look at him when you two talk. And I see the way _he _looks at _you. _There's no doubt!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Brie!" Maka assured with a roll of her eyes, "Soul and I are partners and that's all. He wouldn't have any interest in me anyways, not with what Blaire's put him through the last few years. Have you seen my chest?" Thinking about the many mornings that she'd walked in on the often naked cat smothering the just-waking Soul Eater made her shudder.

"Blind!" Brie sang, nudging Maka with her shoulder, "The boy obviously cares about you, and you care about him. What's the big deal?"

"Of course he cares about me, he's my weapon," Maka returned her gaze to her fingers, studying the calluses on her palms. "And I don't want to end up like my Mama and Papa, alright? I don't want Soul to realize he's not satisfied with a flat-chested thing like me and find out he's been stepping out on me."

The weapon sitting beside her was silent for a moment after Maka's confession. It had come from the heart, and matched the sadness on her face as she said it. Maka truly thought that Soul was capable of hurting her like that. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he really did care about her. What Maka knew, though, was that even the possibility of being vulnerable to someone in that way was frightening in a way that no kishin or witch ever had been to her. She knew that wounds would heal and scars would fade, but a heart was a different matter. She saw it in the way her mother had looked at her father after the divorce.

"Maka," Brie said softly, putting a hand on the girl's arm, "I may not know Soul very much, but from what I _do _know I can tell you that he isn't the type to do something like that to someone he cares about."

A tiny flicker of hope flared in Maka's chest, right by her heart. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

Just then Maka's alarm went off on the bedside table, signaling that it was time to travel through the mirror. The two girls grinned at each other in excitement. The sentimentality and seriousness dissipated quickly as they rushed around to collect a few last-minute things before standing in front of the mirror.

* * *

Soul Eater Evans stood in front of the mirror in a black pinstripe suit, much like the one that he was always wearing when he met with the demon inside his head. This one didn't feel the same but was still cool enough that Soul figured it wouldn't matter after a while. Plus, he didn't want to offend Nanuk by asking for a more simple – and definetly more loose – suit from his closet. Tugging, once again, at his tie, Soul watched a bead of sweat slither down his cheek. Why was he so nervous? This was so uncool. It was only a ball, after all. It wasn't like it was a piano recital; no one would even be paying attention to him except for the rest of Team Maka.

There. That was it. That was the reason Soul was so nervous, he knew it the second he thought of her name. It had been six months since he had seen his meister in the flesh. _Six months since he had resonated with her soul. _He had never considered how precious their connection was, how strong a bond they had. She was just there. She cooked and cleaned, put up with his teasing, helped him when he needed to study and stayed home to take care of him when he was sick. Hell, she worried so much about making sure she was a strong enough meister for him that sometimes pissed him off but at the same time he couldn't help but find that flattering.

No wonder his ego was so damn big.

Nanuk, the white-haired Russian meister Soul had been paired with, was an excellent meister. After two months they had been able to complete a full resonance, building up to Witch Hunter like it was nothing. Soul didn't push for Genie Hunter. It felt a little uncool to share that experience with anyone other than Maka. Soul knew it was pretty stupid of him to think that way considering someday he would be Lord Death's weapon – not Maka's – but he couldn't help but be uncool when it came to thinking like that.

At that very moment Nanuk walked in, a powdery blue suit on. If anyone else had been wearing it Soul might have made a joke, but on Nanuk it wasn't all that uncool. Considering he was gay, it really made sense for him to pull it off, Soul supposed. Not to mention he always had a way of walking – sort of bouncy and happy – that made you not want to burst his bubble. Like taking candy from a kid; totally uncool.

"Are you ready?" Soul asked, staring at the meister through the mirror.

In response, Nanuk fiddled with his cufflinks one more time. Then he checked that his hair was in place, that his pits didn't stink, and that his shoes were shined to perfection. Though he had decorated the entire room pink (Soul had quickly fixed that after he had arrived) he wasn't really a stereotypical 'girly gay'. When it came to looking nice Nanuk was much like Kid was with his obsession with symmetry, but _way _less severe.

"You look cool," Soul flashed his shark-like teeth in a grin, "Now come on, I can't wait any more."

"You just want to see Maka," Nanuk let out a big breath, gave himself a reassuring nod, and walked up next to Soul.

"Alright, let's go now."

* * *

Tsubaki twirled in the mirror, staring with wide eyes. Snow watched as she did so, taking in the beauty of the Japanese weapon. Tonight was going to be interesting, especially with all she had told him about Black*Star. He was expecting the bluenette to attempt to stake his claim over Tsubaki within the first few moments. This was one of the times that Snow did not yet know what he would do in reaction. The smart thing would be to let him have his way tonight and return to her side… but that wouldn't be an option. Tonight was the last night that he would be able to do something like this and he so wanted to.

The Japanese girl turned to look at her meister, assessing his expression. He was always so hard to read; his eyes so dark. His wide lips gave nothing away, not even a smile. It was still strange, even after six months, to have gone from someone as expressive as Black*Star to someone as silent as Snow.

Meister and weapon faced each other, counting down the time until they had to be going in each other's eyes. Something was building, something slow and simmering and strange hummed silently in both of their chests. They teetered on the edge of a cliff and there was nowhere to go but forward, nowhere to look but towards each other, but neither was sure if they were ready. Tentatively Tsubaki took a slight step forward, maintaining eye contact, wondering why it felt like the entire world was paused for this. She was more nervous than she ever had been before, which was saying a lot considering she had been pretty nervous at times with Black*Star around.

Silence was their enemy and their best friend. Neither was yet willing to cross the line, neither was willing to pretend it wasn't there. Both wanted what was on the other side but neither were sure if it was the best idea. The slight darkness of the mud hut masked the battling thoughts that they both had written clearly on their faces. Snow was silently urging himself to take the leap. To say something. Instead, as usual, he stayed silent and still as if he were out hunting.

"Snow," Tsubaki said quietly, "What are we doing?"

The meister didn't have an answer, not a verbal one anyways. He matched her small step forward with one slow stride, which she then countered. Before he knew it they were nearly touching. As he was several inches taller he had to tilt his chin down slightly to meet her eyes. What _were_ they doing? As far as Snow was concerned they had passed the extent of his knowledge on relationships the second he'd developed feelings for her.

"I do not know," he admitted, shyly placing a soft hand on her forearm.

"Oh," she gasped softly, sliding into his arms as he slowly wrapped them around her waist.

Was he moving too fast? No, he didn't think so. Things had been building for six months. _Six months _he'd waited and gotten to know her, falling slowly in ways he wasn't supposed to. This was wrong, so wrong, and she might just hate him later but he couldn't help but do it. Just once.

He ducked his head slightly, slowly, incrementally so that she would have all the time in the world to say no. Later tonight he knew that she would be back with Black*Star, maybe even discovering that she was still in love with him like she had been when she had first come. Right now she was his and there was no one here to tell him otherwise. No duty, no rules…

The kiss was soft and sweet. It was like a bit of cotton candy after a year without sugar. Tsubaki couldn't help but notice how firm his hands felt on his waist, how gentle that mouth was. It must have only lasted a split second, but it was the longest second she'd ever felt.

"It is time to go." Snow said softly as they parted, leaving Tsubaki oddly disappointed. Was that all he had to say?

She nodded and turned away for a moment, pressing a hand to her chest and pleading with her heart to make it slow down. Her other hand touched her lips softly, her eyes closing as she ran through what had just happened again. When she was under her own control again she stepped towards were Snow was waiting by the mirror, putting on a calm expression. Snow must have noticed something was off, however, because he took her hand in his and the smallest, purest of smiles lit his face. Tsubaki's heart soared in the most cliché of ways as he squeezed slightly before writing the digits in the fog his breath made.

* * *

Though they didn't know it, though none of them were even in the same country, each of Team Maka approached the mirror at the same time. Kid, Nikolai, and Bastian. Liz and Patty, and Rex and Hollin. Maka and Brie. Soul and Nanuk. Tsubaki and Snow. Black*Star and Kai. All wrote the same digits on the mirror, each uttering the same words:

_"42-42-561, if you're attending the ball at Death's Mansion."_


	13. Chapter 12: Kai

(Author's Note: Quick shout-out to my followers/fans: your comments literally make my day... I kind of get all happy and sometimes I even - to my own embarrassment - cheer out loud in my living room... Anyways, you guys are awesome! This chapter is for you all! Hope you enjoy! Byye!)

Chapter 12: The Ball at Death's Mansion; Team Maka Reunites!

Stepping through the mirror felt a lot like jumping into a cold swimming pool. My limbs were freezing. The only thing that anchored me was my hand clutching Black*Star's arm and my grip had grown considerably tighter. Taking a breath felt like breathing during a blizzard. Moving felt like walking while my limbs were turning to ice.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, I stepped onto hard marble flooring. I gasped, my chest cramping as I struggled to catch my breath, while Black*Star raised a cocky eyebrow and smirked – back to his old self. "Damn Kai, I knew I was godlike but you didn't have to go and lose your breath because of it."

"Shuttup!" I socked him softly on the arm, glad that he was acting normal even if it was only for a little while.

"I bet Tsubaki and the rest of the team are already here! Let's go!" he grabbed my hand and we started weaving through the crowd of teens who were also stepping through the floor-length mirrors that lined the walls. Every mirror was a different size, a different shape and color. Some mirrors had stairs leading up to them and there were even a few on the ceiling that had a trampoline-like catching system. I barely got to search for Warren as Black*Star ran around trying to find Team Maka. After a while I convinced him to slow down and follow the crowd out. They were probably just sitting in the dining hall at a table, waiting to see him.

As soon as I said that I was whisked through the halls in the direction that everyone else was going. We soon came to a large room that was lined with several hundred round tables covered in white tablecloths. Each table had nametags set by each of the eight places. It was now that I realized, my hand still enveloped by Black*Star's, that Tsubaki would probably be sat beside him. I bit my lip, dreading sitting at a table with strangers. I never did well with strangers.

"There's Maka! Yahoo!" Black*Star jumped at least ten feet into the air, dragging me behind him, and landed right next to the table striking his usual pose and announcing himself. I, on the other hand, drifted down behind him to the floor like a deflated balloon.

"Black*Star, I think you broke your weapon!" Maka chastised, reaching down to help me up. Her eyes lit up with recognition when she saw me. "Kai, right? I'm surprised you've been able to put up with him this long!"

"Well," I coughed awkwardly, stealing a glance at the dejected assassin as he dealt with Maka's cold shoulder. "We kind of put up with each other, so I guess you'd count us both lucky."

Maka nodded, a slightly surprised look coming over her face. Then, seeming to remember something, she turned around and beckoned. A short blond girl walked over, beaming at us both with a smile.

"This is my weapon, Brie." Maka introduced.

"It's nice to meet you!" she stuck her hand out for me to shake, her French accent lilting her words.

"Nice to meet you to!" I relaxed my tongue, letting my Scottish accent slide out. Black*Star and Maka looked vaguely surprised, Black*Star the most. My accent was usually only prominent when I was upset, but I wanted to show off a bit. I grinned at her as she nodded respectfully.

Suddenly, Maka yelped as a pair of arms wrapped around her stomach and spun her around several times before setting her down. An albino boy dressed in a pinstripe suit had come up behind her and was hugging her to his chest with a wide, shark-toothed grin. I almost let out an 'aww' but instead nudge Black*Star with my shoulder and jerked my chin towards where I saw a familiar-looking girl walking over hand in hand with a tall dark-skinned boy. Immediately my meister flew from my side, shouting her name like a war cry: _"Tsubaki!"_

"Black*Star!" The gorgeous Japanese girl detangled her fingers and absorbed the impact of his embrace. They both began laughing, leaving me and the white-haired man that had walked up with Tsubaki with nothing to do except stand there awkwardly. The bad feeling that had gone away when Black*Star had started acting normal again was quickly returning and my heart was starting to feel two sizes too large for my ribcage. It squeezed and pulled, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek so hard blood came out. I seriously needed to work on these inferiority issues…

A sigh escaped my lips, my shoulders drooping just slightly. I wandered away aimlessly, casting about for Warren. As part of the Exchange Program his attendance was mandatory so I knew he was here. However, it seemed that no matter how hard I looked he wasn't anywhere to be found. Suddenly the crowd was too much. I felt sick. Underneath my corset my heart smacked painfully against my ribcage as my body changed slightly. My senses heightened and in a single, clear moment I could taste something _wrong_ in the air. As suddenly as the change came, it left me in a wave that took all my energy with it. I could barely stand on my feet, but somehow I still ran to the bathroom and made it into a stall before I started coughing up thick, black blood.

It tasted like salty tar and coated my throat like oil. Some of it splashed onto the floor, leaving small puddles of black teardrops. A wheezy gasp shuddered through me, spilling what was left in my mouth down my throat and causing me to gag. The entire process started over until the small, weak part of me wondered if there was any blood left to expel. _It was black blood_. My energy returned slightly at the realization, spurring me into action: I stood on my feet and quickly flushed and cleaned up my mess while working through the problem. I had taken the pills like a good little girl. This shouldn't be happening, I frowned I wiped at my mouth with a shaking hand and a paper towel.

The door opened and Maka walked in, smiling when she saw me. A second earlier and she would have seen… what would she have thought? I didn't dare let any of my nerves show. I immediately threw on a friendly smile and hastily shoved the soiled paper towel into the trash can.

"Hey, Black*Star sent me to find you. You can't just disappear like that or we'll worry, you know?" She gave a small laugh and linked arms with me, pulling me away from the lavatory and back through the crowd towards the table. To say that I was surprised by her appearance was an understatement, but more than that I was disturbed by what I was feeling. Something was definetly wrong in this room. It wasn't the people. It was something else, but I just couldn't figure it out.

"Hey, Kai! Where'd you go? You left before I could introduce you!" Black*Star barreled over like an eager baby rhinoceros and dragged me over to where his circle of friends had grown considerably. Two boys and two girls had added themselves to the mix, Liz and Patty with their Australian meisters. Rex and Hollin were eye-catchingly attractive. The two pistols seemed infatuated with them, to the point that I felt slightly bad for whoever their meister was. He was one of the few members of Team Maka I had only met once during the first mirror call they had all shared when Black*Star had come. He was honestly the one that I was looking forward to meeting the most – not that Maka and Soul and Tsubaki didn't seem cool to me.

No. Death the Kid was in a class all his own in my mind.

The son of Lord Death, the next in line to be Shinigami. I owed my life to his father. Someday I would serve as his Death Weapon, _hopefully. _

As if beckoned by my mental praise, he suddenly appeared with two amazingly large boys trailing behind. Remarkably, the two boys looked exactly alike in every way, right down to the way their hair was combed. Liz and Patty noticed and immediately a drop of sweat went down one of Liz's cheeks as her drooped out of exasperation. Patty, on the other hand, looked slightly disturbed as she glanced back and forth between Kid and his two new weapons. It was a feeling that I knew every weapon in this room would probably be feeling at this very second: doubt. Thinking things like _'what if my meister prefers this new weapon' _were causing doubt – another reason why I still questioned this ball.

"Kid!" Patty seemed to finally return from her inner thoughts and jumped towards the white-striped meister with an expression of utter joy. The Death God, for his part, began laughing and caught the girl, twirling her around before setting her one the floor and beckoning Liz. It was clear to me that the three had a very close relationship. Like anyone else who was interested, I had heard the story of the Thompson sisters and Death the Kid: how he had found them and offered them a new chance at life. Still, even with knowing, it was adorable to see three people so happy with each other.

"Hey Kid, long time no see!" Soul loped over and went for a fist-bump.

Kid's gold eyes flashed cheerfully as he touched his knuckles to the scythe's, "Strange to think it's only been six months."

Maka laughed, embracing him. "It feels like longer! I'm glad you're doing well, Kid-kun."

He smiled, and shrugged, greeting Tsubaki as well before then taking in the line of exchanged weapons and meisters that were standing close enough to be considered part of the group, yet far enough that we weren't being obtrusive. I took a deep breath as the Shinigami's eyes paused on each of us individually, meeting his eyes steadily. "Well, it's time for introductions, isn't it?"

Black*Star, of course, was the first to but in, wrapping an arm roughly around my shoulders and pulling me into him. I squeaked, my eyes narrowing, face blooming madly red, opening my mouth to share some of the nasty comments about his mother that were running through my mind before he cut me off: "This is Kai! She can be a few different kinds of weapons and she's a great partner! She almost likes fighting as much as me! Which reminds me Kid!" Black*Star fist-pumped and his eyes got a mischievous gleam, "I think I'm almost ready to defeat you!"

With that, my meister burst into a fit of rowdy laughter, throwing his head back and putting his free hand on his hip. Not that I was complaining. The arm that was around my shoulders felt kind of nice there. Tsubaki, I noticed, was focused on exactly where his fingers were (sort of) gently gripping my skin. She looked dismayed, though I wasn't sure if it was about Black*Star's behavior or my presence. When the bluenette was done laughed, he grinned at me and pinched one of my cheeks – much to my embarrassment. "All I have to do is get Kai here to distract you with her cuteness!"

There was an immediate pause in conversation, my face immediately turning a shade of color that should be reserved for fruit and home decorations, while Black*Star froze with eyes wider than the whole pizzas he was able to eat after every mission.

"Do you even think before you speak?" I snapped, pushing him roughly away and pouting slightly, rubbing my sore cheek. "God, Black*Star, you have no damn filter!"

"So he still acts the same, huh?" Tsubaki asked, groaning slightly. "I was hoping this whole experience might teach him some manners!"

"Manners!" I scoffed, deliberately not looking at the assassin so that my face could return to its normal color. "You have no idea. Just this morning he left me alone walking the streets of this city!"

Tsubaki shook her head, "Is he still jumping into fights without any plan?"

"Eh," I rubbed the back of my neck, "we kind of do that together."

"Alright, we get the point." Black*Star said, looking slightly perplexed and grumpy. "Let's get on with the introductions."

Maka stepped up, grabbing Brie's hand and pulling her into the circle. "This is Brie! She and I weren't paired together right away, but she's a great weapon and a good friend. I hope you all get to know her!"

Brie blushed, "Ah, Maka, you lie. You're the one that's making me a great weapon, because you're such a good meister!"

"She has a habit of making good weapons great ones," Soul smirked, meeting eyes with his meister, "Totally cool."

The ash-blond blushed slightly.

Next was Kid, the golden-eyed boy naming each of the Jolly Green Giants that stood behind him: "_Identical _twins Nikolai and Bastian, from the European branch. They turn into spiked flails."

"Ve are pleased to meet you all," the one who had been introduced as Nikolai said. I noticed that he seemed to contain a slight bit more focus in his eyes whereas his brother seemed to be wandering, searching for something in the crowd.

"The pleasure is ours!" Tsubaki smiled, "And I'd like to introduce my… friend, Snow. He's very quiet, but also very kind."

For a brief moment I was hung up on the white hair/dark skin combo, but was put at ease by his small, sincere smile. He seemed like a nice enough guy, even if he was a little quiet. "In my experience, a lot of quiet people usually have the most to say, but they're smart enough to know the right time and place. Maybe you should learn from him, Black*Star!" I smirked at my meister evilly.

Soul stepped forward, nudging a pale boy before him. "This is Nanuk and, thanks to _someone,_" he glared at Black*Star, "when we first met he thought I was gay. He's cool though," the demon scythe flashed his sharp teeth and his meister smiled back.

"Well, now that we've all met, I feel as if we should find out seats!" Kid clapped his hands together determinedly, casting his gaze about. "I have no idea where to start though."

"Didn't your dad _plan_ this event, Kid?" Maka asked, sighing and narrowing her eyes at the young Shinigami. He simply blushed and began inspecting the name tags on each of the tables. It was lucky, actually, because soon enough we found where we were all sitting. As if destiny had come up and given us a huge-ass present – we had been standing within a feet tables of our own. In a matter of seconds the group was split: Kid and his German weapons, the Thompson sisters and their Australian meisters, all bundled around one table. Tsubaki, Black*Star, Maka, Soul, Nanuk, Snow, and I were all at the second. Immediately we all settled next to our counterparts, causing a bit of awkwardness as Tsubaki and I both went to sit on Black*Star's right side.

"Oh, go ahead!" I stammered, "You haven't seen him in six months. It's only right that you're next to him!"

The Japanese girl blushed lightly and slid into the chair, seated between both Snow and her old meister. Maka was sitting on his left, so I had to walk all the way around the table and sit between Brie and Nanuk, who both looked like they were feeling as out of place as I was. We exchanged idle chatter as Snow stayed silent, the four others chatting excitedly about the happenings of the last month. I glanced down at my empty, fancy-looking plate. I really hoped Black*Star didn't break his, it looked expensive.

My stomach growled, causing me to grimace and glare down at my midsection. There was no way any food was fitting in there with my dress being so tight. It was a shame. A party thrown by Lord Death was sure to have some amazing cuisine – my mouth was watering just thinking about it! I gave the air a delicate sniff to see if I could smell anything but there wasn't a trace of food. The kitchen must not be too close then.

Suddenly, the room went dark. The hushed voices of nearly one thousand weapons and meisters fell to confused whispers. This was when a pedestal seemed to rise out of nowhere, a tall, black-robed figure standing upon it, lit by a random spotlight. _Lord Death _himself.

"Hiya, everyone!" A single blocky hand waved enthusiastically, "Glad you could all come tonight! First we'll be having some food so I hope you all brought your appetites! Then we'll have some dancing, we're going to have so much fun! Now, I won't keep you anymore. Enjoy the night to your heart's content!"

The lights went back on in a flash, Lord Death disappearing in the process. When I looked down I realized that our table had been covered in food while we had been focusing on the god. My jaw dropped, a drip of drool threatening to fall from my mouth. Everything smelled _so _good! There was a large bird that looked like turkey or duck, some Japanese and (I suspected) African foods that I didn't recognize, and several platters of other things like steak and salad, and some breadsticks. A contented look made its way to my face as I surveyed all the food I was going to help my table eat and felt completely up to the challenge.

I dug in, quickly forgetting about the tightness of my dress and deciding to indulge myself _just this once_. What was the harm, anyways? And I was starving!

Let's just hope I could dance after all this eating…

(Author's post-script: hehe, how easily she forgets about the black blood... Oh! Look! A butterfly! Goodbye!)


	14. Chapter 13: Kai

Chapter 13: Eating too Much; Will Kai and Black*Star Be Too Fat To Dance?

I began with salad – a girl has to watch her figure, of course – and it spiraled out of control after that. Accompanying the food was good conversation: Maka, Soul, Tsubaki, and Black*Star entertained us with endless stories about defeating the kishin Asura and two witches Arachne and Medusa. I, personally, was interested in hearing about Arachne, her being the 'mother of all weapons' and all. They had a lot of interesting accounts, including one about Liz and Patty nearly being consumed by a mummy kishin while Kid ran home to fix a painting. That one almost killed _me, _partially for the look on Kid's face as he heard us and figured out what we were talking about.

"So, Black*Star, how'd you get saddled with such a cool weapon?" Soul asked after a while. I had just reached my food limit, but was still eyeing the chocolate pudding. That is, until Black*Star scooped it all onto his plate and shoved some in his mouth. Letting out a slight groan of contempt, I glared across the table at him while patting the slight bulge in the tummy region of my corset.

And I had thought that I couldn't get anything else in there!

"Uh," Black*Star grunted, a mouth still full of pudding, "Only the best for a big star like me, I guess."

Snorting, I nearly fell out of my chair as I was jostled by my own noise. As I tumbled, Nanuk's hand shot out and pulled me back into my seat by my bicep so I didn't hit the floor.

Soul smirked as I sat straight again, blushing slightly. "Kai, how do you feel having this guy as your meister?"

What was the purpose of asking me a question like that? Of course any weapon would be lucky to have Black*Star as their meister – if they could handle his attitude. I was glad that I had been chosen to be his weapon for the year. Then again, I bit my lip, I couldn't exactly say that out loud or it would sound like I was _happy_ or something (though I really was). I didn't want to sound like I _liked_ him or anything. "He was a pest at first." I started, frowning, "and he ate all my food and tried to make me do all the chores, but after he learned how to wash his own laundry and feed himself then… I guess he's cool." I shrugged, looking away and trying to keep my face neutral. That wasn't at all what I thought.

"You guess?" Black*Star echoed, his eyes narrowing. I caught his gaze and saw that this morning was all but forgotten.

"Well," I stared into his starry irises for a moment, nearly biting my tongue to keep from snapping or saying something I would regret, "You hog the shower."

Giggling, Maka grinned at Tsubaki. "But at least he's taking showers! And doing his own laundry, Tsubaki!"

"I didn't think it would ever happen," Tsubaki chuckled, "I thought he was going to keep wearing the same things forever!"

I sighed theatrically, placing my hand over my chest. "It took a whole two and a half months, but eventually even he couldn't stand his own stench."

The table erupted into laughter as Black*Star's face turned bright red, his lower lip sticking out as he pouted. I gave him a bright smile, wanting him to see that we weren't laughing fully _at _him, and he couldn't contain his grin. We were easily being one of the loudest table, causing us to get some looks from the other ones, but it seemed none of Team Maka really cared much. They were honestly a really fun, interesting group of people. Soul was super laid back, Maka courageous and firm but also super friendly. Tsubaki seemed quiet at first, but opened up slightly as the meal went on. Soon we all chatted like old friends, all but Snow who seemed to be getting more nervous as the night grew older. Something about the way he fidgeted in slight, subtle ways made me slightly nervous myself. I found myself glancing at him every few minutes just to make sure he was still there.

"It has to be nearly time to dance, right?" Brie groaned, patting her stomach. Out of the whole group she and Black*Star had definitely eaten the most, with my coming in at a close third. The assassin didn't even seem fazed by the amount he'd packed away but the French scythe definitely looked like she had reached her limit.

"I don't know if I'll be able to dance!" I sniggered, stifling a moan. The table joined me in my laughter until I thought about it for a moment, "No, I'm serious. I don't even know if I can get up."

"I'm sure Black*Star can just carry you out onto the dance floor!" Nanuk teased, having joined in with the rest of the table who had been mercilessly teasing the two of us all night – with no cause, I might add.

"I can barely carry myself!" Black*Star complained, "How am I supposed to defeat god if we're both fat?" He looked at my food baby pointedly.

"You ate more than I did!" I squealed, hiding my swollen stomach. "Plus, we don't feed ourselves this well at home, _ever._"

While my meister and I groaned about the fullness of our stomachs, I lazily cast my gaze around the rest of the food hall. One of the large sets of doors – the one we hadn't come in – had opened and I could see the ballroom beyond. There were already a large number of people entertaining themselves there, dancing and laughing, not seeming to be affected by their consumption. I snickered, realizing that we seemed to be the only ones who had eaten a too-large amount. Who would have thought Team Maka were such pigs?

With a huff, I managed to propel myself out of my chair and began rounding the table menacingly, eyes locked on Black*Star. The second he caught sight of me he struggled to flee from his impending doom, finally springing to his feet and all but dragging Tsubaki into the ballroom. Those of us who were left, including me, sniggered at his quick retreat.

"I don't think I've ever seen Black*Star back off that fast before!" Maka giggled. I couldn't help but notice – I am a girl, after all – that she and Soul had been gravitating to each other's sides at every possible moment. I wasn't one of those creepy girls who, like, totally followed and 'shipped' their relationship, but I really hoped they would get that figured out soon. Warren and I used to have sessions with these candles that heighten your emotions, make you talk truthfully and stuff, and they were always really good.

Hell, we beat the crap out of each other most of the time, but it was still fun. Very enlightening for our resonance.

"You must be a god or something, huh?" Patty asked, her eyes wide and innocent and slightly crazy, one arm hooked through Kid's. "Black*Star isn't afraid of much."

I shook my head, chuckling nervously my thoughts jumped to their usual, darker place. "No, not a god. I'm just that scary!"

Our pack weaved through the tables, making its way towards the open ballroom. I could hear the classical music, but then suddenly I could see a small quartet that was playing music on a small raised platform in a corner. The thousands of weapons and meisters that had been eating just a few moments ago were now gliding – or stumbling, in some cases – across the dancefloor to the music. It was obvious that many of them didn't know how to dance very well, as there were only a few that actually did anything besides the basic waltz. A few couples, the really cute ones, didn't even try and instead swayed together near edge.

I quickly spotted Black*Star and Tsubaki, a confusing pang hitting suddenly inside my chest as I saw the meister and weapon dance. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I would be caught _dead_ dancing, but… it kind of made me ache, thinking about their close relationship. I couldn't help but be a little jealous.

Beside me, Brie sighed. When I turned to look she was glaring at me with an anger that I hadn't known such a small person could have. "You're just as bad as Maka," she accused, jamming a finger into my arm. "Why aren't you out there, confessing? When are you going to get a better chance?"

My face turned red of its own accord, denial already stumbling out of my mouth: "What! Me? Black*Star? Love? Hell no. He… repulses me. Just look at him! Who has blue hair anyways? It looks stupid!"

Alright, so maybe my best form of denial was bashing.

Brie sighed, shaking her head and nodding towards my meister, "She's been in love with him forever, you know. Not saying that you should run in and steal her man, but maybe if it's taken her this long… it's someone else's turn?" She smiled slightly, glancing at me from the corner of her eye, before turning away and heading toward the punch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I heard a rumor that somebody spiked the punch and I want a taste!"

Bewildered, I stared after her. For someone so small she seemed quite knowledgeable, though I was sure she wasn't any older than I was. I looked back at Tsubaki and Black*Star, my stomach burning with acid and butterflies all at the same time for no reason. What the hell was there to be nervous for? All I needed to do for the rest of the night was sit my ass in a chair and pretend I was having a good time while Black*Star caught up with his old weapon. It was no big deal, him seeing her. So what, she liked him? It wasn't as if I did too. There was absolutely no competition between us.

I found a seat and slumped in it as best I could with a corset on, a thought occurring. In less than six months it would be me that was the old weapon. I would be back with Warren, which wasn't a bad thing, but it was mundane and didn't seem as exciting anymore. Shocked, I came to a startling realization that left me floored: I would trade anything to be Black*Star's weapon permanently. My want was selfish and wrong, and completely _mad_, all combined left me feeling worse than I had mere minutes ago. I was a terrible person.

Settling back into the chair, letting my eyes wander around the room without purpose, I almost found myself relaxing. Just a little bit. As much as I could while I was in a dress and alone in a roomful of (mostly) strangers. Warren – damn, it had been ages since I thought of him, how awkward – hadn't found me if he had even bothered looking. Black*Star was off with Tsubaki, each of Team Maka having paired off with their old partners and catching up with each other. Liz was off with the older of the two Australians, though I couldn't quite remember his name. Patty was dancing with Kid and I could hear his cursing every time she stepped on his foot clear across the room. Maka and Soul, dammit, were one of the sickeningly sweet swaying couples, though it seemed as if they were actually talking instead of making out.

Then, I could spot their exchanged partners. Snow was hovering near where his weapon was dancing, looking both unapproachable and sad at the same time, which I considered quite a feat. Nanuk was dancing with another guy and talking quite animatedly with him so I guessed he was probably his previous weapon. Brie was still guzzling punch, now surrounded by guys who all competed for her attention. I couldn't see the younger Australian, though, and Bastian was missing – though Nikolai, like me, had found a chair and planted himself in it with a book. Why hadn't I thought to bring a book? That was so damn smart! I could have gotten a bunch of homework done…

Amidst my thoughts of missing partners and homework I didn't even hear anyone come up behind me, gasping in shock and shooting to my feet to face my adversary as their hand landed on my shoulder. My gray eyes widened in shock as they processed who it was. I didn't even know what to do with myself, so my arms just went slack by my sides, my eyebrows dipping down to show – I didn't even know what they were showing, I could barely keep up and I was _inside_ my head.

The song came to a slow close, the entire crowd clapping and then returning to their respective dances as a new song began. The boy before me clapped slowly with the rest of them, his eyes never once leaving me. First he appraised my dress, a slight blush on his face as he realized where it was from. Then he met my eyes, boldly staring me down like no one else would. I ached for my camera like I always did in his presence, wanting to capture him in a tuxedo at a formal ball, wanting so badly that my hand actually tightened into a ball without consulting me first. He noticed, a grin making its way onto his face as he slowly held out a hand: asking silently for a dance.

I inspected that hand that had so many times gripped mine before we went off and did stupid things together. I couldn't say his name yet, I was still unsure that he wasn't a figment of my imagination, but that hand could have almost been a part of someone else if I pretended it was so. Maybe it could be a certain bluenette assassin's hand, though the fingers were too long and feminine to have ever belonged to him. Still, if I just let myself pretend then I could go back to being his for a few moments, not thinking about Japanese boys who made me think of things someone who was, well, _me_ should be thinking about.

He tugged me out onto the floor wordlessly, reminding me of so many nights at McDonalds after a hard kishin hunt where we had been too exhausted to do anything. Truthfully, most nights like those I was too tired to even eat but I went for the sake of tradition. I averted my gaze from his face as his hand gripped mine, feeling all-too wrong. His other hand rested at the small of my back but I couldn't help but wish it was someone else's. I felt so selfish and sick of myself to be wanting like this but Brie's accustation had cut through the barriers I always kept up. So, maybe it was true. Maybe I actually did feel something for Black*Star, something that was beyond the usual meister/weapon relationship. It was still wrong and stupid.

I shut my eyes against the thoughts, pressing my palm in my partner's to keep me grounded in the here and now. If I wasn't careful my mind was going to run away on me.

Swallowing down a painful lump in my throat, shoving aside thoughts of awakening feelings and the futility of said emotions, I finally looked up into the boy's eyes and met them with my own fire. His, a steady and unwavering brown, smirked back at me while he waited. I felt it: his soul brushing up against mine in a way that felt oh-so-familiar and pleasant and like home.

I cleared my throat, smirking back. "Hey Warren, long time no see."

(Author's Note: Going to start putting these at the end of the chapter because I like being able to talk about what goes on. Super fluffy, I know, but the next chapter will get back to the action-packed, heart-string tugging stuff we're all used to from Kai... or not, whatever you think ducklings! Hope you enjoyed!)


	15. Chapter 14: Kai

Chapter 14: Betrayal Is Bitter; Is This The End?

Warren led me around the ballroom as we waltz effortlessly. One nice thing about soul resonance was that it made a lot of multi-person tasks easier because of the easy communication between minds. Even just the light touching of souls that we were maintaining currently made it easy to follow his movements. I tried to avoid speaking quite yet, as I wasn't sure how I felt about him showing up so suddenly. Currently I was warring between accusing him of avoiding me and letting our regular routine of bantering begin.

As I thought, I studied him silently. Perhaps it was just the toll of the night getting to me, the stress of my earlier fight with Black*Star and the black blood that had spilled from me… or maybe it wasn't. Regardless, there was something wrong with my old meister. Though our souls had found each other and effortlessly achieved a shallow resonance I could feel that a full resonance wouldn't work – I would burn his hands or worse. An evaluation of myself led me to believe it was one of two things: either my "feelings" for Black*Star (even though I still wasn't admitting they existed) were getting in the way, or he was hiding something. Instead facing the problem immediately, I made a mental note to myself and pushed it aside slightly.

Too many things were arising my suspicions tonight. I was starting to get unnerved.

"Where were you?" I asked, careful not to let any of my suspicion leek into my voice. "I looked for you before the food was served but I didn't see you anywhere."

Warren arched an eyebrow, giving his face a cocky look that he knew I hated. "There are a lot of people here, Kai."

"No shit, Warren," I responded sarcastically, already a little irritated.

"Hey, hey," his eyes grew a little wide at my sudden response, the hand on my back rubbing soothingly. "Calm down, Firecracker."

I scoffed, my annoyance dispersing at the sound of my favorite nickname. "I just thought-"

"That I wouldn't come?" He smirked, chuckling slightly. "And give up a chance to see you? Hell no, Kai. I've missed you like hell the last few months."

My jaw tightened, his confession having the opposite effect that he had hoped it would. Eyes narrowing, I stepped back from him, extracting myself from his grasp and staring at him for a long moment. Warren shifted somewhat nervously, unable to tell anymore what I was thinking. It felt like my brain had split off onto two different paths at that moment, half of me racing to connect the clues and suspicions I had and the other analyzing his lack of ability to read me.

The broken mirrors, the black blood, and the violent relapse I'd had after not taking my pills for only a night. Suddenly everything began clicking together, forming a large puzzle. Doubt clouded my eyes, though, because I couldn't believe the conclusion I had been led to. There were very few things that would have caused these things, and only one made plausible sense.

"Kai?"

Grunting, I continued to let the gears of my mind work through the problem, not noticing what was going on around me until a fist collided with my shoulder. I growled, spinning towards the point of impact with a death glare already set to burn Black*Star alive – because who else could it be? Sure enough, the meister was grinning cockily with Tsubaki nervously standing behind him, peering at Warren with a curious expression. Black*Star, to my amusement, seemed to have already completely written my old meister off and was ignoring him, giving me his full attention.

Not that I minded…

"What did I say about running off, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning, "You never know what kind of creeps are at these things!"

Warren's face lost it cheerful smile and his eyes narrowed, already off-put by Black*Star's loud demeanor. I was left awkwardly between the two of them, half-turned towards Black*Star and wondering just how much more awkward this could possibly get. Instead of reassuring my meister, however, my irritation got the best of me and I clenched my fist, fixing him with an angry look. "You're the one who left me all alone. What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno', find someone safe to hang out with until I got back!" Black*Star shrugged, "There won't be anyone as amazing as me, but-"

"Dammit, Black*Star, stop being a jackass!" I hissed, slamming the heel of my hand into his bicep and startling those around us. Even Warren, who had been my only meister and friend before Black*Star, seemed shocked by my outburst. Tsubaki, for her part, looked a bit like she thought he might have deserved it. I decided that I liked her.

"I know what you're doing!" I seethed, jerking my thumb towards Warren. "Stop being a jerk and be civil for once, alright?"

Black*Star, at this point, looked slightly ashamed, but as quickly as it was there it was gone. It was replaced by a gruff, angry almost-pout that was completely infuriating. But at least he turned towards Warren and introduced himself. I considered that progress.

"I'm Black*Star," he grunted, sticking out a hand. I saw his eyes briefly assess the boy opposite him. Warren was slightly taller, but less defined. Where Black*Star had worn the entire tuxedo, Warren had opted to skip the jacket and just wear the dark vest. The brunette looked at ease in his formal-wear whereas I could tell Black*Star was going crazy in his, eager to be back in his normal clothing. Black*Star had a boyish appearance, but Warren's face had a somewhat aristocratic look to it, making him appear as if he was looking down at you when in reality he was – usually – quite the friendly person.

"Warren," my old meister gracefully returned the gesture and they shook hands, all insults forgotten by Warren. I couldn't say the same for Black*Star, but… well, he was special.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I glanced between them. Even though Black*Star could be rude at times I found it slightly odd that he would have just completely written off Warren like that. Within his muscled exterior was the compassionate heart of someone who – usually – cared about anyone who wasn't standing in his way of becoming stronger. I was curious to know what was going on in his head but felt that he probably didn't want to share, least of all with me.

I shoved that thought away as the odd chest pangs came back, full-force.

"Now that you've met…" I began, trailing off as Black*Star walked away suddenly, looping his arm through Tsubaki's.

Fury, white hot and raging, burned within me instantly. Warren reached out a hand to restrain me but I shook it off, stalking after Black*Star like a predator after prey. Tsubaki, luckily, glanced back before the impact and was able to distance herself before I grabbed him and whipped him around to face me. I didn't care that people were staring – for once. All I could even comprehend was the intense rage that was clear on my face and the hurt that lie underneath. Who the hell did he think he was to be so…

"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped, searching his face with angry eyes for the answer.

It was then that I noticed his starry pupils, the transformation that often took place when he was especially angry. I had yet to figure out why they did that, though I had always meant to ask.

"My problem?" Black*Star responded in a low, dangerous voice. The heat of our collective resentment was hot enough for a few people to have to step back.

"Why are you being so rude?"

For a moment I could see the compassionate side of him peek out: a small spark of guilt and hurt. Quickly it was covered up with a glare, for once his mouth not smiling.

"Why don't you just go back to your meister?" He asked – though it was more an accusation – while pointing a finger behind me where I could only assume Warren was standing in a state of awe at our display of hatred.

"Where the hell was I supposed to go, Black*Star?" I asked, some of the anger dissipating as the chest-pangs came back, damn them. "You were with Tsubaki! You can't expect me just to stand around and wait for you!"

His jaw clenched as he realized his error, but I knew immediately that he wouldn't back down. His pride was too important, his ego too large. "So what if I was with Tsubaki? You could have hung out with _us._"

"And done what, stood there while you two got all cozy on the dancefloor? Sure, I just love to be the third wheel!"

"No, wait, it wasn't like that!" Tsubaki interject timidly, biting her lip as she tried to edge closer to her meister. "I was just telling him about me and-"

"Dammit, just shut up already!" I hissed, directing my furious gaze at the Japanese girl. "This isn't about you! Just get out of my damn way!" My anger was too hot, too blind, for me to realize who I was directing it at until it was too late: I gave her a light shove and she tumbled backwards. Slowly, as if the world were slowly just to let me soak up the full extent of what I had done, I saw her heel catch on the edge of her dress as she fell. The rip of the fabric sounded like a scream in my ears as most of the lower half of her dress tore away from itself. My heart stopped in my chest as I beheld her, a heavy guilt descending upon me. Her face was completely still, shock radiating from her until each eye began to fill with tears as she took in her appearance. I felt instantly horrible, quaking with shame.

"Tsubaki, I'm so-"

"Just get away!" Black*Star stepped in front and roughly shoved me away, rising like a shield in front of his weapon. "And don't expect me to come back. I'm quitting this stupid program and going home." He spat at me, turning away just in time before I began breaking down. I paused, like a deer in headlights as a million pairs of eyes glared at me from the entire room, and then I ran. I pushed through the crowds and blocked out the words they were saying. A shadow was stirring in me, connecting with the feelings of anguish and loneliness that were gripping my very soul as it shrank away from those surrounding it. I broke through, rushing through the dining hall and running out back into the hallway, searching for my stashed bag just as the trembling began.

I reached the pills just in time, popping one in my mouth and swallowing it dry. My muscles relaxed, then tensed again as the grief hit. Until the blood dripped into my mouth, past my teeth, I didn't even register that I was biting my lip so damn hard to keep myself from sobbing. I couldn't help it.

Heaving, I shoved my knuckles between my jaws and pushed my hand into the marble floor to ground myself. I smacked my head against the wall roughly, trying to jar my thoughts from the depressing thoughts that swirled through it. Who would ever want to be around me now? Word would soon spread from everyone who had seen the fight. Everyone would know, even people who didn't know me. People from each and every branch of the DWMA would hear of the angry redhead who'd made a complete jackass of herself in front of everyone. Team Maka… God, I would never be able to face any of them again.

It could be argued that I didn't deserve to.

"You worthless piece of shit," I whispered to myself, tears brimming in my eyes as the last bit of fight left me after I tore off my heels. "I can't believe I did that."

I buried my head in my hands, letting my insignificant hours of primping wash away in the flood of my tears. My sobs were silent, thanks to years of practice, and I curled in as tiny a ball as I possibly could. Only when I was drained, my entire face and arms and dress covered in the saltiness of the liquid, before I raised my head and considered my options. Really, all I could do was go back home. There was no point in waiting because it wasn't as if I had anyone to wait for. Slowly I peeled myself off of the floor and picked up my bag, leaving the heels with a look of disgust.

First thing was first, I found the bathroom I had vomited in earlier and changed into a pair of the clothes that I had packed in my emergency bag. As soon I was in my usual half-shirt, vest hoodie, cargo shorts, and combat boots, I felt tons better. Well, maybe no better, but at least more comfortable. And I washed my face after a glance in the mirror revealed black tracks all the way down my chin. Afterwards I felt cleaner, more me, even if I didn't feel normal.

I just shoved the dress in the trash, feeling the guilt of throwing away such a beautiful gift add itself to my transgressions. It would never be needed by me again.

As I walked back to the Hall of Mirrors my mind whirred. Somewhere in the time it had taken me to change a plan had begun forming. It was a terrible, ruthless, and lonely plan, but it sounded… right. If I just left, damn, that would be one less problem for Lord Death to worry about. I didn't have to die, no. All I would have to do was disappear. Hide out in some forest and learn how to hunt and forage. I had always loved the woods.

It wasn't as if the DWMA needed someone like me, and my lack of control over myself just cemented that fact. Someone with my illness shouldn't have even been allowed to continue existing and I was disgracing the mercy that I had been shown. Maybe I could find a little town to live near and protect. Even little towns had their problems, right? I could control their cat population, or be a shadow in the night that found lost dogs and car keys and other things.

It wasn't glamorous, but it would be satisfying. It would give me a purpose that would keep me from continuing to be a pain in the ass to other people.

Sighing, I pushed through the large doors to the Hall of Mirrors and decided to begin packing as soon as I got home that evening. Then, something stopped me in my tracks:

Broken glass.

Everywhere there was glass, each and every mirror shattered. I gaped, dread filling me as the full meaning of those broken mirrors assailed me: there was no way to get out. Shaking, I stepped past the threshold and searched in vain for one unbroken mirror, and found one. It was solitary, in the center of the room. A tall, golden mirror that reflected my dismayed and horrified look, and also the figure standing behind me, shutting the door and then approaching me menacingly.

With a yelp I threw myself to the side, ignoring the pinpricks of pain that came from hand- and kneefulls of broken glass. The hammer that had been raised slammed into the floor with such force the shards jumped from the floor, tinkling about like broken windchimes. I turned and face my assailant, fearful once I took in her appearance. She was tall, dressed in an all-black dress that had a flow, octopus-like skirt. Her hair, in a bun, had thick tendrils snaking around her head that reminded me of tentacles. Her eyes were a greasy, oily black.

"Who are you?" I demanded, stepping back slightly as her posture relaxed. She sighed, as if my question caused her pain, and then began to examine the nails of the hand that wasn't gripped the heavy hammer.

"My name is unimportant, child. You've caught me at quite the inopportune moment to be asking complicated questions. All you need to know," glinting, her eyes returned to me, "is that I am a witch, and _you _my dear, are definetly in the wrong room. I'm going to have to kill you, which is a shame because you're such a precious little weapon." She frowned at me like I had just killed her favorite puppy, puckering her lips then in a pout.

My mind raced, dread once again pushing to the top of my most immediate reactions as she confirmed my earlier suspicions: there _was _a witch plotting against the DWMA, and if I was right she was more than just plotting against the DWMA, she had infiltrated it. Something told me that she had worked her way right to the top.

"You're behind all my broken mirrors, aren't you?" I asked, more calm this time as I searched for an escape route without taking my eyes from her. "That's how you know that I'm a weapon, because you've been keeping me from talking to my meister"

She looked mildly surprised that I had figured it out so quickly, but she giggled madly. "Yes, little Kai. That was me. I thought the tornado was quite the touch, don't you? I love being dramatic. If I wasn't such a powerful witch I might have been an actress!" Sniggering quietly to herself, she daintily covered her mouth with her hands. "You amuse me, little Kai. It's a shame I'm going to have to kill you."

Then the witch began to advance again, coming close enough for me to see the pure insanity that lurked within her fishy black eyes. I retreated quickly, grasping for some sort of plan to get myself out of this mess, until suddenly I hit the wall and realized I had stupidly backed myself into a corner. Silently I cursed myself, looking desperately around for something - _anything_ - that would save my life.

The door, right then, burst open to reveal my would-be knight in shining armor. Warren, looking slightly disheveled, burst into the room. "Lady Calypso, we have a problem!" Then, suddenly noticing the scene, froze.

That moment I felt as if everything I had known about my meister was a lie. "Warren, you're… she's… how?"

Calypso the witch cackled, sitting back lazily on her heels as she gazed adoringly at Warren. "Don't be worried about speaking in front of my guest, Warren dear. It's unfortunate, I know, but little Kai won't be much of a problem for us anymore!"

Warren's eyes grew wide, "But you said she would live!"

The witch considered for a moment, but then shook her head (much to my dismay), "Warren dear, what are we going to do? She's seen too much already."

"I can convince her!"

Already I could tell him anything he said would be futile – already I had grown disgusted and foolish for not believing in my suspicions about him. There _had _been something off. He had been dealing with a witch! She took one look at my face and shook her head, a not-so-surprising lack of disappointment on her face.

"She's already decided, Warren dear. Now, tell me, did all go according to your plan in the ballroom?"

My ex-meister glanced at me nervously before nodding. "Any second now."

At that moment, as if beckoned by his prediction, a resounding explosion echoed through the hallways. The tremors shook the floor so violently that Warren and I were both thrown to the floor, though Calypso stayed on her feet by some sort of magic. She giggled quietly, madly, as she gazed at my prone figure.

"I used to be like you, you know." She smiled slightly, considering my determination and rage, "That is, before I learned the true extent of my powers and began to use them. Killing for the first time gives you such a thrill doesn't it?" she asked, noting my look of shock. "Yes, little Kai, I know of your past. I know of what you did, what you _became._"

"No!" I hissed, pushing to my feet, "You don't know anything!"

Her smile grew wider, baring more teeth than any human should have been capable. "Oh, but I do. We are so much alike; the same innocent blood coating our hands like oil. I've seen with my own eyes the extent of _your_ power, so why do you lock it inside of you? Why do you hide you madness?"

"I am nothing like you!" I shook my head violently, nearly screeching the words as they clawed at me like tangible things.

These words gave Calypso pause, and suddenly her smile vanished and was replaced by thoughtful, calculating look. Then, slowly, she grinned. She began laughing, quietly at first. Suddenly her laughter was booming against the walls, a thousand insane faces reflected in the broken mirrors. Her head thrown back, her neck exposed, my killer instinct led me to lunge desperately for her throat. My wrist sprouted a long dagger, assassin-style, and I nicked the soft skin before a force slammed me into the ground so violently that my teeth clamped down on my tongue and filled my mouth with blood. Spots danced in my vision so thickly that I could barely make out her face above mine before suddenly I was being lifted again by my armpits, raised, and then pierced through the abdomen. Blood poured from the wound and I desperately grasped at the flesh to keep myself in one piece as I was then set back onto the floor, almost as gently as one would a child.

A bloody hand caressed my face. "Little Kai, I almost hope you live. Things would be so much more interesting with you around."

Then Calypso was gone, I saw her dress leave a trail of my blood behind her. The door, she left open, so I could hear the panicked screams of the thousands of meisters and weapons in the ballroom. I ached to know what was happening, praying silently to any deity that would listen that everyone would make it out alright. All of Team Maka, who had shown me kindness despite not known anything about me. Black*Star, even though he probably hated me, I prayed for fervently. With my remaining energy I wished with all my might he would live.

I couldn't fight it anymore. I was dying, and I was in love with Black*Star.

Cursing myself, cursing everything about my life, I wallowed in self-pity for a split second before I realized it was doing me no good to lie in a pool of my own blood, waiting for Lord Death to take me. In her rush to kill me Calypso had forgotten the one unbroken mirror!

Getting on my feet was pointless, but I did my best to drag myself to a standing position. One hand pressed against my shredded stomach, I vaulted towards the door like a starving man towards food, desperate to catch the attention of anyone who had escaped whatever was happening. I barely made it past the door before falling to my knees, coughing up a stream of suspiciously black blood.

Footsteps.

I gathered my strength and raised my head, not even needing to see her face before I knew who was coming. There were too few of them, but they were still a team. I counted less than there should have been, and panicked as I searched for the missing persons: Maka, Patty, Tsubaki. Bastian, Nanuk, and the two Australians. Team Maka wasn't whole, and they looked bedraggled and panicked. Liz was a blubbering mess slung over Nikolai's shoulders as he ran, Snow was carrying a katana that looked suspiciously like a description of one of Tsubaki's weapon-forms that had been in Black*Star's file. Soul was covered in blood, someone else's, and his eyes had a dead, desperate look to them.

Brie, reaching me first, dropped to her knees beside me as the rest of them ran up. They were all panting as if they had just run a marathon.

"Kai, God, what happened?"

I gave a weak smiled, closing my eyes and letting my head hang, the limp tendrils of my hair trailing through a pool of red liquid that had begun collecting underneath me. How much blood did one person have? But at least it was red, not black, which was as puzzling as it was relieving. I didn't think I had long enough to figure out why it was the way it was. "Ah, clumsy me, ran into a witch in the process of taking out the DWMA. Couldn't really do much without a meister, but I tried."

"We need to get out of here," Kid said urgently, kneeling beside me and doing his best to stay away from the blood. "Are any of the mirrors intact?"

I nodded, "One, she forgot to smash it after she stabbed me. Luck for you guys, huh?" I gave a wry smile, tiredly looking at my red reflection. Then, a coughing fit made me spasm, my arm dropping my weight. A pair of arms picked me up before I hit the floor and I flopped like dead weight in them, barely holding back a shriek.

"Lead the way, Kid." I felt Soul's chest rumble as he spoke, and the slightly movement as he began running towards the final, unbroken mirror in the hall.

The last thing I felt before I slipped away was the cool, liquid-like feeling of mirror-travel as I said my final goodbyes.

(Author's Note: Ever heard the phrase "No tears in the author, no tears in the reader"? I pretty much died when I wrote this. Yes, I know it might be a little more dramatic than needed, but I am master of [at least attempting] such scenes. I hope you liked this chapter! Review! Bye little ducks!)


	16. Chapter 15: Kai

Chapter Fifteen: Losing; Where Do We Go From Here?

That night was harder than anything any of Team Maka had ever experienced. For Kid, Soul, and Liz it was especially hard. Soul had watched his meister slip out of his grasp, suddenly swallowed by the billowing mist. Kid had felt Patty trip, seen her stumble and suddenly flash into her gun form, lying on the ground after the first few tendrils of smoke had touched her skin. He was immediately unable to grab her, held back by Nikolai who had was shouting nonsense about his being more important.

Now the Shinigami was unable to use either weapon, due to their lack of symmetry, and he was experiencing a level of grief he had never before reached. The same was happening with Soul, who was much quieter than his normal self. He hadn't complained once even though he had been carrying Kai's limp body for hours. The red-haired Scottish girl needed immediate medical attention but so far they were still following a deserted gravel road through the countryside. Kid grew increasingly worried as he watched her strangely textured soul grow dimmer and dimmer. He couldn't help but notice the pattern of what seemed to be a sort of 'nucleus' to her soul: a sort of darker hexagonal scale formation. While her soul appeared whole, though the eyes were nearly closed, and the light pink color was actually rather healthy, Kid still worried for the girl's health. He knew of the madness pills she took because they had needed to find something to bandage her with and he had stumbled across them, having seen them before. Professor Stein was prescribed the same medication to fight against his madness.

Kid wondered why this girl needed pills to fight off her madness.

There was nothing malicious in his musings. It was merely the product of their continuous walking, the silence, and the monotonous green hills. If they didn't find anything promising soon then he felt as if he might just have to pass those pills around so they could all take one. Liz had already passed out from exhaustion and stress and was cradled in Nikolai's arms. Tsubaki, still silent in her sword form, was still clutched in the hand of the silent African meister.

Black*Star was a completely different story. Kid was repeatedly surprised by the amount of maturing the meister had done in the last six months. Even while Kid and Soul were breaking down in their own, silent ways, Black*Star had begun moving the morose group forward along the road. The assassin rules that he had always dumbly repeated to himself as he fought were actually being put into use though Kid could hear the blue-haired boy muttering to himself quietly every few moments – though he couldn't catch any of the words.

Out of all of them, Kid was most worried about Soul and Kai. The albino was especially off, silent and covered in Kai's blood as well as Maka's. Kid was afraid that if Kai died Soul wouldn't be able to handle himself anymore and then… well, Team Maka would have yet another problem on their hands.

Clearing his throat, Kid sighed. The silence was difficult to deal with, especially when it was so dark. He was jumping every time a cricket chirped. He couldn't understand why he was so jumpy, but the fact was that he couldn't control it.

"Hey!" Black*Star called softly from ahead, "There's a town ahead, but it looks dark."

Then, back to his old self, the assassin gave a loud "Yahoo!" and leaped down the hill, enacting his usual "I am Black*Star" introduction. When no one came out, Kid's eyes narrowed. Black*Star had been loud enough that at least half the town should have heard, yet no one turned on their lights.

Gold eyes assessed the landscape before they came to rest on a nearly-missed sign. It had fallen off its post, though the post was no longer upright anyways, and was lying in the overgrown grass. Kid softly walked closer, peering at the dirtied words that stood out on the green surface.

"Scotland," he finally said, tilting his head back up to his companions. "The signs says we're in Scotland, on the island of North Rona. The town's name is Ester"

"Scotland?" Brie yawned. She looked quite a sight: her hair disheveled and her dress rumpled. Long ago she had ditched her heels, preferring to go barefoot.

Kid nodded in confirmation, striding towards the town with more purpose. Ester seemed completely devastated. The young Shinigami cast a critical eye about as he walked through the streets. It wasn't a large town at all, in fact it was more of a village than anything. What was left of it was rotting away but Kid could still see signs of some sort of disaster. Walls had been forcefully smashed, it seemed a few doors had been ripped off of hinges and in several houses there were suspicious sets of claw marks. Upon closer inspection Kid realized that whatever had made the marks had five fingers, far too many for it to be an animal.

The group met back up, Liz had been awakened by Nikolai a short time after they had arrived and immediately glued herself to Kid's side. Because he knew that she feared ghosts he kept his suspicions to himself, instead asking the others what they thought.

"It seems to be a safe enough place to stay vor a night," Nikolai sighed tiredly. Brie nodded quickly in agreement, sagging against one of the outside walls of a house.

Snow, having been silent most of the entire journey, nodded as well. "I doubt that we will find another town in a place like this."

It was unanimous. The boys split up to find the least deconstructed house and finally picked one on the edge of town. It was relatively intact: the floor sturdy and most of the windows unbroken. Several of the rooms were furnished with old things like sofas and beds, an ancient refrigerator held rotting food. As with many of the houses, it almost seemed as if whoever had lived here had just simply left. Kid knew that whatever had left those scratch marks most definetly had something to do with the emptiness.

Footsteps nearby startled him, but he remained cool as he glanced towards the noise out of the corner of his eyes. Black*Star was in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his heels. Again Kid was struck by just how much the meister seemed to have changed. Even though he was still loud, obnoxious, and overly excitable, he now held a sort of maturity in his eyes. Perhaps not a lot, but with how immature the boy usually was it was a delightful change of pace.

"Black*Star," Kid greeted lowly, turning from the window he had been looking out of. The assassin regarded him quietly for a moment before sighing, scratching the back of his head somewhat awkwardly while glancing away. There were very few times Kid had seen Black*Star seem so serious, his fights with Mifune made up most of the count. It was slightly worrying, his expression, simply because Kid was not yet used to the changes Black*Star had made while he was with Kai.

Then again, Black*Star himself was still struggling to understand the reason _why _he had changed and that was nearly as important.

"Was I wrong, Kid?" He asked lowly, staring at his feet.

"Wrong about what?"

"Wrong to shove Kai away after what happened?" Black*Star leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest in a solemn manner.

Kid tried to think unbiasedly, "I believe I would have done something similar if someone had done that to Liz or Patty. But whether or not it was wrong is something you have to decide. Why aren't you asking Soul?"

"He's pretty messed up right now," Black*Star sighed, frowning. "Losing Maka is hard for him."

"It would be, they share a strong bond." Kid took a deep breath, beginning to let his worries take over. Not only was this house completely unsymmetrical – though for the moment he knew that there were more important things to worry about – but out of all of Team Maka they only had one usable meister/weapon pair. Kid couldn't handle using _just _Liz or _just _Nikolai and using them both was out of the question. Maka was gone, leaving no one to wield Soul. Tsubaki was silent and unresponsive in her sword form, but Snow wouldn't let go of her anyways. If worse came to worse, Snow was really the last and only line of defense unless Kai's condition improved quickly.

Kid looked back towards Black*Star and found the meister staring out the window, his expression easy to read. The meister was more worried for his weapon than he had previously let on. He was sad and maybe a little confused. Though Kid couldn't be sure, he thought he saw a surprising amount of fear. But what would the 'Great Black*Star' have to be afraid of? This was the boy who challenged everyone to fights just to get stronger! The only person ever to intentionally irritate Kid just so that he would attack him! This was Black*Star, big star and future defeater of the gods. If he was afraid… Kid actually felt that he should be concerned.

"Without Kai…" Black*Star trailed off, his brows furrowing. It wasn't that he didn't know what to say, it was more like he couldn't put it into words. Then again, he didn't really understand it himself. How could someone like him understand anything about someone like her, anyways? She was smart, brash, and loud. Pretty, yet she didn't care and loved to fight nearly as much as he did. Kai pissed him off in ways not even Kid had never done, yet she felt more important than even Tsubaki. That was frightening, realizing that someone was so important. Black*Star didn't know how to say it out loud, what he would do if she was gone.

Kid just nodded silently, understanding exactly what the meister was trying to say. He felt the same about Liz and Patty. He couldn't stand knowing that one of his weapons was out there, alone, trapped and confused.

"She'll be fine," he reassured, knowing that neither of them truly believe the words.

I felt like I was burning, every molecule of my body rebelling against me in a massive mutiny. Inside I could feel two things: the black blood working to mend my broken body and my immune system, fortified by the anti-madness pills, attempting to fight it off. Silently I willed my immune system to take a vacation until I could at least wake up and fix myself but it didn't seem to listen nor understand my request. Instead it just kept eating away at the only thing that was keeping me alive.

When I awoke, I decided I would install an internal clock. I couldn't tell if I had been comatose for a few minutes or a few weeks. All I knew was that I was still alive and trapped within my own body, stuck in the place between death and life. I wanted someone to pull me out of it so bad. I fought to find my eyelids so I could return to reality but, alas, it took too much energy to try and open my eyes and I once again began drifting in the recesses of my mind.

It was ages before I could feel my fingers and even longer before my toes would twitch on command. The black blood had done its job well, though very little of the job had been done. There was still a wound in my abdomen, I could feel it gaping, but much of it had knitted back together in the time it took me to regain myself. A groan slipped out of my lips as I finally acquired the ability to open my eyes again and was shocked at the light that immediately assailed my pupils.

"Kai?" A weary voice asked nearby, somewhat bored. "I really wish you would stop doing that and actually wake up. Black*Star keeps jumping towards you like a puppy."

I coughed, the muscles in my stomach sending me sharp pains as I hacked up a small amount of blood that was left in my lungs.

"Ohmygod!" Brie fell on her knees beside me, bringing my head into her lap and looking at someone that was out of my view. "Don't just stand there, get me some damn water!"

"Water would be nice," I croaked, struggling to keep my eyelids from drooping again. A plastic bottle was pressed to my mouth and I eagerly gulped it down. Small happy moans escaped my throat as everything slipped in and out of focus before, finally, I could see Black*Star staring down at me with a wide grin on his face.

"That's what you get for sleeping so long!" he snorted, dropping to the floor beside me. I couldn't help but want to be in his lap instead of Brie's but I tolerated it, pushing my annoying emotions to the side.

"You're the one who always sleeps in!" I accused, smiling back.

Luckily, he reached for me. Brie gave me up quickly, rushing off to find some food for me to consume when my stomach – the complainer – started growling. He laughed boisterously and I snickered as well. Our souls adapted and fit each other and I sighed in contentment, again struggling to keep my eyes open. My meister noticed and shook me gently, trying to keep me awake.

"You can't go back to sleep just yet, Kai." Death the Kid came into view, frowning disapprovingly. "You've been asleep for nearly a week."

Suddenly being close to people just felt stifling and I needed to get away. As everyone in the room – Brie, Kid, and Black*Star – immediately tried to get me to lie back down the need to run became more prominent. There was something unsettling me. I felt like a wild animal, my sixth sense going haywire as I quickly realized that there was something about the place we were in that was familiar in every way that was bad. I studied the room, taking in the wood flooring and the peeling wallpaper. The rundown couch that I was on seemed to fit the shape of someone much larger than I, but it still was familiar. A sick feeling rose up my throat as, slowly, I realized that I recognized the house I was in.

Within the depths of my mind came memories that were like poison. I shot up, ignoring the shouts of protest and the pain that accompanied my motion. My feet carried me out the door, running down the street that I had traveled innumerable times during my childhood. From the center of town I ran down the main road, my eyes searching for the sign post I myself had knocked down the day I had left.

Sure enough, there it was: _Ester, North Rona, Scotland._

Underneath, where the population had been listed there was a hole punched through the metal.

I stuffed my hand in my mouth and sank to my knees, recognizing my own madness in the air. After the years of putting my past behind me and forgetting it had returned like a boomerang. This was the place where I had lost my sanity. This was where I had met meisters from the DWMA for the first time.

My first love. My first kiss. My first heartbreak.

More importantly: the first time I witnessed death.

(Author's Note: I know this is seriously short, which is seriously uncool, but honestly I don't know how to continue with this part of the story... out of it all, this next four or five chapters is the least developed in my head, but we'll figure it out! Anyways, little ducks, I want to know if you have any predictions about why Kai is so freaked about being back in her home town! Review or PM! Byye!)


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